


Here There be Drabbles

by GeneratorCat



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: I'll tag as I go, M/M, Sillyness abounds, and chapter 104, and chapter 28, and chapter 55, cant you tell i love messing with Jason?, fireman! Jason, genie! Jason, honestly they get better as you go, rated m for chapter 10, shrunk! Jason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 150
Words: 60,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneratorCat/pseuds/GeneratorCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of JayTim drabbles, mostly written for tumblr prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim vs. Titus, part 1

Tim is a cat person. He loves cats. Cats know this. They just know, whether it be by the pheromones he gives off or by some magical cat sense, they just know. And they love him.

Tim is not a dog person. He’s afraid of dogs. Dogs know this. And they love to torment him.

One, in particular: his neighbor’s dog, Titus.

Dog. Tim scoffs at the word. It does not fit that beast. Titus is massive. Like a fucking horse. Larger than Tim.

Tim honestly is afraid of the animal. Petrified, really. It could easily take him down. And the thing has this growing fascination with Tim, this obsession. Tim walks to the bus stop and is forced to pass Wayne Manor on the way. Every time he passes, Titus is there. Tim swears the “dog” can smell him coming the moment Tim steps out of his own house. He runs to the black, iron gate and barks his fucking head off. He growls and snarls, looking at Tim hungrily. Tim is fucking grateful the gate is twenty feet tall and strong enough to hold back a bull, because that’s the only thing saving the boy from a gruesome demise.

After months of this, Tim is finally able to walk past without having a panic attack. He doesn’t even need his inhaler anymore. He still carries it, of course—he always does. But it’s not because of Titus now. Up until today, Tim had been feeling pretty good. Naturally that can’t be allowed to continue. Tim feels it coming, his world about to shatter as he stands in his father’s study.

“I need you to take this to Mr. Wayne,” Tim’s dad says casually, as if he isn’t sending his only son to an early and painful death. With lots of teeth. And slobber. Gross.

Tim stares at the envelope being proffered to him. “Um. Are you sure?”

“…Yes. Quite sure.”

Hanging his head, Tim takes the envelope. “Okay,” he says meekly. Before he leaves, Tim hugs his father one last time.

He leaves his house and thinks, _I’m going to die today._ He should be more upset. Probably. But he’s kind of just accepted it.

He walks down the street and thinks, _I’m gonna fucking die._

He approaches the gate. Interestingly, Titus isn’t there to greet him.

Maybe, just maybe… _No, Tim. Don’t get cocky. He will come. And eat you up. Snap you like a twig. You’re too skinny, Tim. Get your lazy ass to the gym, why don’t you._

Tim pushes the call bottom on the intercom. After a moment of static, a voice answers, “Go away unless you’re selling cookies.”

“Um. I’m Tim Drake. I’m delivering something to Bruce Wayne. From my dad.” He fidgets with the envelope in his hand, waiting just a moment too long in that awkward way of his before clarifying, “Jack Drake.”

“So, no cookies?”

“…No. Sorry.”

“Fine.”

Tim thinks he may have just been rejected, but a tone rings out and the gate starts to creak open. He throws a quick, “Thanks,” back. He considers briefly asking the man where Titus is but decides against it. Don’t want to put your lameness on display, Timmy. Well, not all of it at least. Can’t help the bits that slip through the filter. Very over-worked filter.

Walking through the gate, Tim steps onto the grounds of Wayne Manor. Which is huge. The grounds and the manor both. The Wayne family must have a fixation with large things. Speaking of which, it’s eerily quiet and Tim is baffled as to why the demon dog hasn’t attacked him yet. With shaky legs Tim approaches the house. It takes him several nerve-racking minutes to reach it. He’s almost there. He breathes a touch more easily.

Perhaps he will make it to eighteen.

A low growl.

Perhaps not.

Tim freezes, too scared to even look behind him to confirm what he knows in the pit of his churning stomach.

A bark.

Too close.

Tim bolts.

For an asthmatic Tim is actually pretty fast. Yeah, his lungs will never recover from this, but at the moment he’d rather take his chances with lack of oxygen than with the beast. He runs faster than he ever has, faster than he knew he could to the house. He can hear the sounds of pursuit clearly. He is being hunted. Veering to the side of the house, Tim bypasses the thousand steps to the front door. No way in hell would he be able to mount those steps faster than the dog. But he’s been here before. Three years ago his family had attended some event at the manor. That had been before Titus, when Tim needn’t fear for his life. He remembers that on the side of the house there is a door to the kitchen.

Chest burning, legs numb, breath sharp and too fast and too little oxygen. Tim sees the door. Runs straight to it. Runs straight into it. Grabs the handle and turns as he gets there but the damn thing is locked. So Tim just smashes into it and crumples to the ground. He looks up to find Titus just five feet away, standing there, preparing to strike. Tim is not too proud to deny the pathetic whimper he emits right then.

Titus takes one step forward. Tim pushes himself as far back as he can which is about three inches until his back is pressed against the wooden door.

Goodbye, cruel and beautiful world.

Suddenly the door behind him opens. Tim falls back, laying on the ground, halfway inside the house. He’s looking up at a man. A confused, irritated, muscular young man. Tim emits another whimper and doesn’t even have the presence of mind to feel ashamed about this one either because his brain is short-circuiting at how fucking hot this guy is. And Tim is currently laying on the floor between his feet, getting a lovely angle of his crotch. He should probably move. Explain the weird position he’s in. That he’s not a creeper, he was just running away from the—oh, fuck. Tim startles back to reality. Shooting up, he realizes he’s wheezing, gasping for breath. Tossing dignity in the garbage—which, how much did he really have to begin with?—in exchange for survival, Tim scrabbles back. Quite inelegantly crawls through the man’s legs and into the kitchen.

The guy turns, regarding Tim with raised eyebrows.

“Dog,” he rasps out, pointing outside. “Chase. M-me. Demon dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there may or may not be a part 2


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where there is fire there will be hot firemen

Stephanie always said Tim shouldn’t be let out of the house. That he was a danger to himself and others. And Dick agreed. And Bruce and Cass and- well, everyone. Tim had laughed because really, it was true. Tim can laugh at himself. When you fuck up as often as Tim does, it’s a requirement. Otherwise you’d end up bitter and resentful. But this time is special. Tim fucked up big. And he hadn’t even left the house yet. The very much on fire house.

All he had wanted was to make diner. Not even something complicated, just an easy casserole. He wanted to do something nice for the family. Wanted to let Alfred have the night off. So he had set to it with much gusto, determinately tying the strings of his farm animal print apron. The oven was turned on, the veggies were being chopped with great precision, the pasta was boiling… It had all been going so well. And then Tim left the room for a minute- just one minute!- and he came back to smoke and heat and disaster. In short, Tim had set the kitchen aflame.

Alfred was going to kill him. Worse, Alfred would be disappointed.

So here Tim stands, grass tickling his bare feet, in the backyard behind the manor. The rest of the family surrounds him. He should feel safe, being encompassed by all the people he loves most in the world. He would, if not for the situation. If not for the looks on their faces. Usually they laugh at Tim’s antics- Tim, the bad-luck magnet. But not this time.

They as a group silently watch the fire eat at the house with stony faces and rigid postures. It had taken some time for the fire department to arrive, seeing as the manor is a fair distance from the city. Firefighters have been working for a while and it seems as though they’ve finally got it dying down.

One of the firefighters walks down the cobblestone path to where the family stands. He’s carrying his helmet under an arm and sweat trickles down from his very mussed up hair and Tim precedes to sing in his head, “ _Too hot, hot damn. Call the police or the fireman_ …” Tim wants to go out right now and buy the Gotham City Fire Department calendar. All of them. Hopefully they were wise and put his guy on every page.

“Mr. Wayne?” The hot fireman asks.

Stepping forward, he offers his hand. “Bruce.”

“Jason.” He returns the handshake. “The good news is we got it contained before it spread. Bad news is the kitchen is… not really a kitchen anymore.” Jason glances at Tim in his apron. “Seems it started because an oven mit caught fire. It was left on top of a burner on the stove.”

At this point everyone turns to Tim. He lets his hair fall forward to cover his face. To cover his shame.

“We should be clearing out soon. The martial will write up a report for your insurance claim. Good luck with the… renovations, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce nods his thanks.

Jason takes a last look at Tim and winks. “Nice apron.”

For a moment Tim is happy to have set the manor on fire.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> six inches of Jason

Jason should have learned by now to keep his fucking mouth shut. He’s gotten in enough trouble from his “bad attitude” to see this coming, really. But to be fair, that guy’s outfit was lame. Honestly, too terrible for Jason to not say anything. And that damn mage was annoying as shit. Just the whole package for the kind of villain Jason doesn’t have the patience to deal with civilly. So Jason had opened his big mouth and let loose the insults and sarcasm and here he is, shrunk down to six inches tall. 

Six inches. You know what you can’t do when you’re six inches tall? Fucking everything. 

After he shrank Red Hood, that magical asshole had just left. Laughing. Jason balls his tiny fists remembering that laugh. He’s standing in an ally, pissed as all hell. Oh, and naked. Cause that fucker didn’t see the need to shrink Jason’s clothes along with his body. They’re laying next him in the filth and trash of Gotham. 

He walks over to his precious helmet, all dirty now that it’s laying on the ground. He manages to climb inside and is able to press the button that sends out a distress beacon. Any member of the Bat family can pick it up. Jason tries to decide who he would hate the least to save him right now. He would prefer Cass, but she’s in Hong Kong. 

So Jason sits in his helmet and waits. It doesn’t smell great. He makes a mental note to clean it later. He would climb out but if some random person saw him, he would be absolutely helpless. 

Four minutes later, a shadow flies by overhead. Jason pulls himself up to the edge of the helmet and peeps out into the alley. 

Red Robin is looking around the alley. He spots Red Hood’s clothes and rushes over. “Hood?” he calls out and Jason is a little flattered by the urgency in Tim’s voice. Sounds like he actually cares. 

It takes a moment for Jason to muster the courage to make his presence known. Crawling out of the helmet, he says, “Here.”

Tim spins around, not looking at the ground, of course, but up at normal Jason height. “Where?”

“Down here!” As amusing as it is to see Red Robin twirling about franticly, Jason wants to get the hell out of this nasty alley. 

When Tim’s eyes land on Jason in all of his naked, six inch glory, he freezes. “Uh,” is all he croaks out. 

“Yeah,” Jason drawls, “This is all very fascinating. I’ve been shrunk. Can we get the hell out of here now?”

Tim just stares at him, pursing his lips, body rigid. “You’re naked.”

“Really?” Jason stands, arms akimbo. “That’s what you’re focusing on right now? Fucking pick me up and let’s get out of here, dipshit.” 

Kneeling down, Tim says, “Um. Okay,” and lays his open hand on the ground, palm up. Jason steps on. Tim lifts his hand slowly and carefully like what he’s carrying is the most fragile, precious thing in the galaxy. It’s almost comical how cautious he is. Also comical is how he’s trying very hard not to look at Jason’s dick. Which is hard seeing as it’s only three inches below his face. “Is there um… something you can. Wear?”

“What do you want me to do, wrap myself in a leaf life Peter fucking Pan?”

“I think right now that would make you Tinkerbell.”

“I wish I were Tinkerbell, then I could fly and I wouldn’t need your dumb ass to carry me.”

“You should be nice, Jason. I could just leave you here.”

“Fuck you, I am nice. I’m pleasant and joyous and caring. Now let’s get the fuck away from here. And grab my shit.” Jason waves toward his gear. 

Tim gives him a look eerily similar to Alfred’s reproachful glare. It makes Jason feel the need to tack on a gruff, “Please.”

“I’m gonna have to put you on my shoulder while I get your stuff. Can you balance alright?” Jason nods and Tim lifts him up. “How did this even happen?”

“Silly ass mage.”

“…Care to elaborate? Wait, let me guess- you were being your pleasant, joyous, caring self and pissed off someone with magical powers and they shrunk you.”

Jason doesn’t reply. 

“You really should be nice.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's [fanart!](http://knighttakeking.tumblr.com/post/122882115745/tim-you-know-who-would-love-to-see-you-like-this) go check out tiny Jason Todd's ass :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arranged marriage

Jason Todd-Wayne looked like a bear. Like a territorial bear. He was bearing his teeth and growling and Tim wanted to apologize for intruding but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. None, in fact. So instead he just took the pen the lawyer offered and signed the document without a word. There was no point in protesting now. Tim understood that, that this was happening. He wished Jason would understand and stop looking at him so menacingly. 

Tim handed the pen over to Jason who snatched it away and scribbled his name furiously. The lawyer picked up the document and gave it a quick once-over for the hundredth time. Satisfied, he rolled it up and placed it carefully in his briefcase. “Okay,” he said cheerily, “Congratulations.”

Jason’s scowl turned into one that said, 'Are you fucking serious?' The man looked around the room, casting his incredulous glare at everyone there. At their parents who were looking so damn proud of themselves. Well, Bruce wasn’t exactly proud, Tim thought. But his own parents certainly were. They would be, having cleverly saved their business and therefor their standard of living. And it only cost their only child! Janet and Jack Drake shook hands with Bruce Wayne and the lawyer and Jason and Tim and thought it was so grand. Jason obviously wanted to punch them. Tim felt the same way but kept his face as pleasant as possible as he nodded thanks to the lawyer. Besides, he was more unsettled by-

Timothy Jackson Drake Todd-Wayne. Good lord. That was too many last names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there might be more to this later


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason is a genie and Tim is a dork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the result of my craving cigarettes and, of course, my love for Star Wars

Tim doubts the legitimacy of this man’s claim. Granted, Tim has never met a genie before, but he’s pretty sure they don’t look like this guy. He’s sure they don’t wear leather jackets and ripped jeans and he’s equally certain they don’t curse so much and rant about… something about feminism. Tim lost track. 

Then again, the guy did actually appear from the lamp. So. Tim decides to keep an open mind. 

The genie stops his passionate tirade to ask, “Kid, you got a cigarette?”

“No,” Tim replies, and then feels the need to tack on, “They’re bad for you.”

The genie scoffs and grunts, “Hold on.” He disappears, a small cloud of green smoke marking where he had been. Less than a minute later he’s back, accompanied by another puff of color. He’s holding a fresh pack of cigarettes and a yellow lighter. He smacks the pack upside-down against his palm a few times saying, “I’m a fucking genie. Magical as hell. I don’t actually have to worry about getting lung cancer.” He rips off the clear plastic seal and opens the top. Pulling out a cigarette, he goes on, “Besides, even if they could hurt me, It’d be fucking worth it. I’ve been stuck in that damn lamp for- wait, what year is it?”

“2015.”

“Shit,” the genie mumbles around the cigarette in between his lips as he lights the tip. “Sixty two years. Do you know what’s it’s like to crave a smoke for sixty two years?” He looks at Tim like he actually expects an answer.

“Um, no. seeing as I’m only seventeen. And I don’t smoke.”

“Sassy fucker.” He takes a couple puffs, eyes closed, enjoying being reunited with his vice. “Well it sucks, kid.”

“I’m sure. What with them being addictive and all.” 

The genie rolls his eyes a bit and asks, “So, what’s your name?”

“Tim.”

“I’m Jason.” 

Tim makes a face. 

“What,” Jason says, a little defensively, “Something wrong with it?”

Shaking his head quickly, Tim answers, “I just didn’t expect something… normal. I mean, you’re a magical being.”

“Magical beings were once people. Most of them, anyway.”

Tim never thought of it that way. This genie, Jason, was once a man. A regular person with a regular life. Suddenly Tim wonders when he lived and where and with whom. 

“So,” Jason says, “What’re your wishes? You get three.”

Tim grins and even starts bouncing to keep in his excitement. He has thought about this very moment extensively and knows exactly what to ask for. He nearly yells, “I want to be a Jedi!”

“A what?”

“Jedi! Like in Star Wars!”

“…What is Star Wars?”

Tim goes still, eyes wide and mouth open in pure shock. “You don’t know… oh my god.” He looks at the genie with such pity.

Lighting another cigarette Jason mumbles, “The fuck is wrong with you, kid?” 

“Jason,” Tim says seriously, “Star Wars is the greatest movie and novel franchise ever produced.”

“A movie.”

“And books. There’s thousands of years of history, compelling and relatable characters- it has its own mythology! It is-”

“A movie.”

Tim huffs. “Movies. Six of them. You just. You need to watch them, okay? At least so you can know what a Jedi is to fulfill my wish.”

“Six! You can’t just tell me?”

Tim scoffs. “No.”

“Fuck.” Jason shoves his pack and lighter in the pocket of his jacket. “Fine. Let’s go. Pick up my lamp. We need to bring it with us.”

Tim complies and asks, “Why am I carrying it? Is it, like, a rule that you can’t touch it or something?”

“No. I just don’t want to have to lug it around. You’re the one making me leave so you get to carry it.”

“Well that’s just petty, Jason.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is completely done with Jason's attitude. arranged marriage part two

“That’s it,” Tim hissed as he slammed his fork down. The force of the action shook the whole table. His chair flew back as he stood. Grabbing the collar of Jason’s shirt, Tim stormed off, yanking the man after him. Jason yelped as he was pulled to his feet. 

“What the hell, Tim?”

“Shut up!” From his peripheral, Tim saw Dick clasp his hand over his mouth, eyes wide out of shock and maybe amusement. Bruce seemed like he had expected this, had just been waiting for it. 

They had been eating dinner. The whole family together. Peacefully. Until Jason started complaining. It wasn’t even about Tim or the marriage. But Tim had heard enough of that snarky tone. He had been dealing with Jason's bitching for almost a week. He snapped. 

Tim dragged his husband out of the room and down the hall to the library. One of them. He threw Jason inside and shut the door. Jason started protesting but Tim cut him off. “Stop! Just be quiet and listen to me for five minutes. Five minutes and then you can go back to your tantrum.”

“Tantru-”

“JASON!” Tim clenched his fist. When Jason didn’t say anything further, he relaxed marginally. “Thank you. Now. I know you’re angry. Obviously. You feel trapped and betrayed. You’re like a wild animal stuck in a cage and all you can do is growl and bite the bars. I get it. Because I am too. Take a minute to realize that I’m stuck in the cage with you. And we will be here forever. Together. So instead of lashing out at everyone, just calm down. Because it’s pointless to keep fighting what’s already happened. You can’t change it so try to at least make it not terrible.”

Jason had calmed down considerably. Tim look a step closer. “This doesn’t have to be bad. Yes, we didn’t chose it and that sucks. But we can make the best of it. We have to. I’m not putting up with you acting like this for the rest of our lives. I mean, doesn’t that sound exhausting?”

Jason nodded sheepishly, looking like a child being reprimanded. 

“Great. Now can you please act like an adult, at least until dinner is over? I’m hungry and I am not listening to your shit any more tonight.”

Jason studied Tim for a long minute, tilting his head and scrunching his nose. Finally he said, “You’re kind of an ass.”

“Yeah,” Tim sighed.

“Everyone thinks you’re meek.”

“That’s cause I keep my mouth shut about things I can’t change.”

“I’m glad you’re not.”

“I’m so glad I have your approval." Tim rolls his eyes. "Can we go back to the table?”

Jason grins. “Lead the way, darling.”


	7. Chapter 7

Tim sits across from Jason Todd in a shady 24 hour diner. Both are still bloody from their fight. 

“You should tell Bruce you’re alive.” Tim winces. It hurts to speak. He’s pretty sure his jaw is fractured. 

“Why?”

“Because he loves you?” He hadn’t intended for it to come out as a question.

“Loved.” Jason scowls. He grabs a napkin and wets it with his glass of water and then gently swipes it along his bruised knuckles. “He loved the kid I was. I’m not that kid now. He can’t love Red Hood. Better to leave him with the memory of me as Robin than what I am now.”

“You’re still Jason.”

“I just told you I’m not.”

“You’re not the boy you were, maybe. I can’t imagine any part of your innocence survived what you’ve been through.” 

Tim takes out a small bottle of disinfectant and rolls it across the table. Jason catches it and applies it to his cuts, hissing softly at the sting. 

“But you’re Jason. You’re his son.”

Jason’s eyes flash up briefly and then back to his work. “He has a new son.”

Tim sags minutely, shaking his head. “You said it yourself. I’m just the replacement.”

The waitress approaches and refills their coffee mugs. They sip it in silence, letting the minutes rolls by. Tim rubs his sore shoulder.

“Sorry about that.”

“No, you’re not.”

Jason smirks. “No.” He fiddles with the sugar packets, forming them into a structure of some sort. “Hey, Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell.”

Tim studies Jason. He sees a lot of things: anger, resentment, betrayal, desperation, fear. 

“Okay.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cats are assholes

This fucking cat. 

This fucking cat that got its dumb ass stuck in this damn tree that Tim is dangling from like a piñata. The back of his belt is caught on a branch which means he’s hanging from his ass, folded in half with no other limbs nearby to steady himself. He’s tried twisting around to grab the branch but he can’t manage it. The cat meows.

“Oh shut it.”

The cat is perched close to Tim’s face, just out of reach. It hisses.

“Hey, that was way over the line, pal.” And now he’s scolding a cat. 

“Hey, kid,” a voice calls. 

Tim looks down at a guy standing below him, leaning against the trunk of the tree. He tries to sound very nonchalant as he throws out, “Hey. What’s up?” He aims for casual. Like he’s not suspended in the air with his shirt falling down in his armpits and Superboy underwear showing. 

“You.”

“Oh right, very clever. You’re a funny guy.” Tim gets sarcastic in times of stress. Or any time, really. 

“You want some help?”

Biting back the sassy retort that first comes to mind, he answers, “Yeah. That’d be great.”

The guy climbs the tree. Quickly and easily and far faster than Tim had done. He stops at the last branch that will support his weight which is directly below Tim. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Jason.”

“Tim.”

“So, Tim. Why are you hanging from this tree?”

Rather than speaking Tim just points at the fucking cat. 

“Oh. That your cat?”

“No. I just saw it stuck up here and decided to help out. You know, build up good karma and shit. Then this happened.”

Jason grins. “Right. Well do you mind if I get the cat down first?”

Tim waves his dangling arm, giving permission. Jason scuffles along the branch he’s standing on and reaches up toward the cat. Seeing the man approaching, the cat rears back and hisses. The moment Jason touches it, the fucking cat jumps and runs down the length of the tree, easily escaping. It lands on the ground and keeps running, across the park. 

Tim gapes. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he shrieks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's actually a panel of Tim yelling, "that was way over the line, pal" at a cat and I just had to fit that in to a story. I don't even know the context of it but it's awesome


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason has sugar lips

Jason is a secretary. Administrative Assistant. Communications Manager.

He answers phones and gets coffee. 

Today is his first day at Wayne Enterprises. He’s nervous. He is in no way qualified for this job. He has zero office experience. He has no idea why he even was hired in the first place, but now that he’s got it, like hell is he doing to mess this up. He woke up far too early this morning, groomed himself meticulously, dressed on his finest attire, and even stopped by his favorite bakery. He wanted to make a good impression and who doesn’t like chocolate muffins? Wait, plenty of people don’t. Some people are allergic to chocolate. So he also gets blueberry. And banana nut. And bran. Jason ends up with a sizable box over flowing with every type of muffin available. Just to cover all the bases. 

Carrying his box of boss-impressing goodies, Jason walks onto the WE building and rides the elevator up to the 37th floor. He steps out into the office, not exactly sure where to go. He doesn’t know where his boss’s office is. Hell, he doesn’t even know who his boss is. He had been interviewed by some random Human Resources flunky. All he knows is the name: Timothy Drake.

With that information Jason wanders around, reading all the name tags on the office doors. He doesn’t want to have to ask anyone for help just yet. What kind of image would that send? Not a competent one, certainly. After circling nearly the entire floor, Jason starts to panic. Just a bit. He has yet to see the name Timothy Drake anywhere. He’s just meandering around with a bunch of muffins. A few people glance at him but no one offers to help. Just when he’s about to swallow his pride and ask, he sees it. Tucked away in the back corner: the office of Timothy Drake. 

Jason rushes over while trying not to look like he’s rushing. There’s a little desk outside the door, nearly empty but for a phone and computer monitor. Jason figures it’s his desk now. Setting down the muffins, he plops down in the seat with a relieved sigh. He looks at his watch; he’s early. About thirty minutes early. Fuck. What is he supposed to do for thirty minutes?

His stomach lets out a thunderous protest and Jason realizes that in all his anxiety he forgot to eat this morning. Good thing he brought so many fucking muffins. Seriously, he got too many muffins. Was all of this for one man? Was he planning on sharing with the whole office? Jason doesn’t even know anymore. He picks up a cranberry muffin with powdered sugar on top and devours the thing. He didn’t realize he was so hungry. He finishes it quickly and goes for a pistachio next. Then a chocolate, those are his favorite. Jason sits there, eating, zoning out in a sugar and butter and flour induced haze. For two full minutes he doesn’t even notice the person standing in front of him. 

“Good morning.”

Jason jumps, choking on the muffin he had been in the process of shoving into his mouth. He coughs, trying not spit any of it out. When he finally manages to swallow he looks up and sees a young man sporting a far too amused grin. 

“Hi,” Jason croaks out. 

The guy looks down at the desk and laughs softly. A half dozen muffin papers litter the surface. Jason is only slightly embarrassed by that. 

“You have sugar lips.”

“Excuse me?”

“Powdered sugar. Around your mouth.”

“Oh, shit.” Jason hurriedly wipes his face. “Thanks.”

“Are you the new assistant?”

“Yeah. Jason.” 

“Tim.” 

“Do you want a muffin?”

Tim smiles and tilts his head and it’s actually pretty cute. Really fucking cute. He’s young, younger than Jason and Jason figures he’s an assistant to someone else on the floor. He takes a banana nut muffin and Jason just sits there, staring at the kid as he bites into it. He makes a pleased noise that affects Jason in a slightly unprofessional way. “This is really good.” He flicks out his tongue to lick up some crumbs from his lips. 

“Yeah. Good. Yes.” Fuck. Jason can’t even get out a whole sentence now. 

Wait. 

“Tim?”

“Hm?”

“As in Timothy Drake?”

Tim smiles again and tilts his head the other way and eats his muffin and Jason has too many thoughts flying around but he knows he is totally screwed when Tim hums and winks and walks into his office.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...tim is awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take note of the rating change, my lovelies ;)

“Come on, baby,” Jason coos.

“Jason, I don’t.” Tim crouches low on a rooftop, high in the skyline of Gotham, pulling his cape around him like a shield. It’s the middle of summer and hot as hell but Tim wraps himself up like a nervous burrito. “I don’t know what to say.”

Jason’s voice vibrates in his ear from across the city, safe in the privacy of his apartment. “Just tell me what you want to do to me. What you want me to do to you.”

“Are you sure no one can hear?”

“Yes, Tim. I set up this frequency specifically so that no Bats can listen in.”

Tucking himself farther into the shadows, Tim steels himself. “O-okay. Um. I uh.” He really doesn’t know how to start. He’s never tried phone sex. Communicator sex? He and Jason have done… other stuff. Fun stuff. Sexy stuff. Fun, sexy times have been had. But. This is different.

Jason’s reply barely covers his amusement. “What would you do if I were next to you right now?”

“K-kiss you?”

“And then?”

Hiding his reddening face in his hands, Tim squeaks out, “I’d uh. Would kiss your neck, touch your chest.”

Jason hums encouragingly. “Would you strip me down?”

“No.”

“No?”

“…I. I like your jacket and cargo pants and Kevlar and holsters and-” Tim cuts himself off, embarrassed at having admitted that.

The noise he’s met with from communicator is part appreciative moan, part delighted giggle. “Good to know, baby. Keep going.”

“I would push you against the wall,” Tim states slowly.

Jason groans and Tim hears rustling from the other end, fabric being moved around, the mattress faintly squeaking. Tim thinks about what Jason’s doing, all because of him, and he blurts out, “I would get on my knees.”

“ _Oh_ , fuck yes.”

“Unzip your pants and pull out your-” Tim breathes and whispers, “ _Cock_.”

“Yes! Tim- _more, please_.”

He can hear Jason panting now, and the sound slicked skin on skin. Tim lets out a little whimper as he says, “I’d suck you, lick you.” He tunes in fully to Jason, straining to catch every single noise he’s making. He’s enthralled. So enraptured that he misses the other noises, the ones right in front of him on the rooftop.

Tim himself is breathing heavily now, hard and needy. Imagining all of this happening, he shakily lowers a hand down, down, under his uniform and- he groans, “Blow you slow until you came on my face.”

The next moment is both blissful and mortifying as he hears his name being uttered by two different people. Jason yells it in ecstasy. Simultaneously, Batman barks it in shock.


	11. Chapter 11

Jason is crying. Nearly. He’s trying to chill out before he snaps and the tears start falling and he punches the well-lit display. 

He’s been staring at paint chips for seventeen minutes and is frustrated as hell. 

He has it narrowed down to the three gripped tightly in his hand. His nose starts to burn. 

Fuck it. He drops two at random and is left with a dark orange called Russet Poppy. Fine. This is it. He’s been in this fucking Home Depot far too long. He is so done with these fucking paint chips. He’s going with Russet Poppy. 

Jason walks over to the semi-circle paint mixing counter, where an employee is slumped on a stool, munching chips. 

“Hey, I need two gallons of this,” Jason says and tosses the card onto the countertop with some vehemence. 

The kid, whose nametag reads, “Timothy”, glances down. “No.”

And Jason just… is reaching his limit of shit for the day. “No? The fuck do you mean?”

Timothy takes another bite of potato chip, chewing unhurriedly. Eventually, he swallows. “That’s not what you want.” 

Running a hand down his face, Jason groans. “Come on, man. Just give me the paint so I can be done with this.” He needs to be done with this. Of course, once he gets the paint he has to go home and actually. Paint. 

Timothy shakes his head. Eats more. Looks totally unaffected by how he’s fucking with Jason’s already fucked day.

“Fine, Timothy. Why don’t I want this?”

“It’s Tim. They make us put our full name on the nametag, to be professional,” he rolls his eyes. “But I go by Tim.”

He stares pointedly until Jason says, “Tim” and then nods approvingly and stands up from the stool. 

“Right. So you don’t want this because it’s orange. Which, psychologically, is an antagonistic color.”

“Orange. Is antagonistic.”

“Yup. What are you painting, your bedroom?”

Jason nods.

“You need a happier color for your room. If you wake up to this,” he taps a finger on the card, “every day, you’ll be pissed off all the time. And. No offence, but you seem like maybe you’re already pissed off a lot. So you don’t need to add to that.”

“But I like it.” Jason kind of can’t believe he needs to defend his color choice to this kid. 

“Trust me. It won’t do any good. My dad painted my little brother’s room a color close to this and the kid is a demon spawn. This shit causes major behavioral issues.”

“Isn’t it possible he would have been that way even if his room were blue?”

“Well. Yeah, he’s just a brat. No matter what color his room is. But it certainly didn’t help. There’s a psychology behind colors. Most people don’t know that.”

“Okay.” Jason closes his eyes a moment. “So a different, less angry color. They say taupe is very soothing.”

Tim pulls a face, like he tastes something foul. “Yeah. That’s why they use it in offices. So that the poor bastards who sit in their sad little cubicles forty hours a week for forty years won’t kill themselves or each other. If the walls were orange, I guarantee Helen from accounting would have shanked Jim in sales for taking her yogurt again by now.”

Jason finds himself laughing softly. It surprises him, considering the state he’s been in. By the look on Tim’s face, it surprises him, as well. 

“Hm. People don’t usually laugh when I say stuff like that.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt: in the sun

Tim sat on the roof of his apartment building. Next to him, Jason was setting up their honest-to-God picnic, complete with flannel blanket and large wicker basket. Jason does shit like this, sappy moves he picked up from romantic comedies. At first Tim thought he was just trying to be funny, maybe he was messing with him. But it’s been long enough for Tim to realise that this is just how Jason is. A total fluff ball. 

Jason passes a plate over. Tim can’t help but smile because on it is pizza with his favorite toppings: pickles and a gross amount of parmesan cheese. Jason’s own slice is peperoni. 

Taking a bite, Tim looks up at the grey sky. All the smog and clouds.

“You know what I always thought was funny?” he asks. 

“What?”

“New Jersey is the sunshine state.”

Jason stares at him for a minute. “You really like this place, huh?”

“Hm?”

“Gotham. You have this… fond expression going on right now.”

Tim lays on his Jersey accent nice and thick when he says, “Bet your ass I do.”

From the corner of his eye he sees Jason picking at his plate, not eating yet. 

“How would you feel about leaving? Just for a little while? Like. A vacation.”

Tim pauses, his pizza halfway to his mouth, because vacation is heavy, something real couples do. Not people who've been fucking around for a couple months and watching Saturday morning cartoons after patrol. 

“Yeah.” He finally answers and takes that bite. “That'd be okay. Just…”

He can feel the way Jason goes still, holding his breath.

“Just not Paris,” Tim finishes.

Jason exhales sharp and laughs. “Okay. Yeah, cool, cool. No Paris. We'll go somewhere sunny. Maybe a beach. Did you know other places have blue water?”

“No shit?”

“I kid you not, Timmy. They got pretty fish, too. Dolphins hop right up out of the water for you to pet them.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt: did you really think i'd leave?

“Don’t you fucking do this!”

Tim pounded his fists down on Jason’s still chest. Again and again, each hit coupled by a cry, hardly human sounding at all. 

“Not again,” Tim yelled. “You aren’t leaving again, Jason. You. Are. NOT.”

Ripping open a pouch of his belt, Tim took out a plastic package. He fumbled to open it, the blood on his hands making everything slippery yet sticky. Finally the needle fell out and Tim gripped it firmly holding his fist raised above Jason’s chest. 

“Going Pulp Fiction on you, you better fucking come back.”

Tim held his breath, one, two, and- Tim never believed in making it to three so- he stabbed the needle in, pushing down on the plunger and emptying the liquid adrenaline straight into Jason’s heart. 

The next few seconds were the most agonizing moments of Tim’s life.

Suddenly, Jason opened his eyes, gasping breath like he’d never get enough. 

Tim slumped against the brick wall behind him, hand going loose to let the needle roll away. Far away. 

“Tim?” Jason reached out for him. “Tim, what- what happened?”

“Fuck you.”

“What?”

“You. Jason, you almost-”

Tim dropped his head in his hands. 

Coughing, Jason tried to sit upright. He couldn’t manage it and instead crawled over to Tim. “Baby, please. I’m here, okay?”

“You can’t do that again,” Tim said weakly, uncovering his face. “You can’t leave me again. Or Bruce or Dick, everyone.”

Jason reached out and Tim fell into him. 

Running a shaky hand down Tim’s sweat soaked hair, Jason kissed his temple. “Did you really think I would leave you?”

Tim made a small whiney sound.

“I’m sorry I scared you, Tim. I’m here.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt: I'm with you

Tim needs little reassurances. He doesn’t even realize how badly but Jason does. Jason sees the question in Tim’s eyes and he’s quick to jump in and answer with , “I’m with you.”

And Tim’s shoulders drop and panic fades away. Because Tim is so used to losing people, he’s expecting it around every corner. 

When the family gathers to play Pictionary and everyone is dividing into teams, Tim looks to Jason and Jason takes his hand and says with a smile, “I’m with you.”

Tim is fighting Ivy and a vine throws him in the air. Jason catches him and says, “I’m with you.”

At night Tim is shaking and calling out for the people he’s lost and Jason’s heart breaks, more so when he hears his own name in Tim’s cries. Jason holds him and strokes his hair and says, “I’m with you.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt: counting stars

Jason wakes up feeling like he’d been hit by a bus. After a moment of consideration, he remembers he had, in fact, been hit by a bus. Some crazed super had thrown the thing at him last night. He can’t recall what happened next but by feel he knows he’s in a bed now. So, not dead. He opens his eyes to see Captain James Kirk smirking down at him. From a poster, of course. So, Tim’s room. He feels bandages wrapped around his torso and a splint on his arm. Tim must have shown up last night and brought him home. Patched him up.

With a groan he sits up. On the bedside table is some painkillers and a glass of water that Jason downs greedily. The smell of bacon and waffles drifts in through the slightly open door, reminding Jason that he's pretty fucking hungry. Gingerly, he stands and walks out into the apartment.

He finds Tim in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. He’s wearing headphones, dancing. And singing.

“ _And I I I I feel something so right by doing the wrong thing_  
 _And I I I I feel something so wrong by doing the right thing_ ”

He doesn’t know Jason is watching. Jason knows because he’s never seen Tim like this, moving this way. This is Tim when he thinks he’s alone and it’s dorky because Tim is really not a great dancer and it’s beautiful.

“ _I could lie, couldn’t I, couldn’t I?_  
 _Every thing that kills me makes me feel alive_.”

Jason stays in the doorway, soaking it in. He won’t get to see this again.

“ _Lately I’ve been, I’ve been losing sleep_  
 _Dreaming about the things that we could be_ ”

Tim turns then and freezes when he sees he’s not alone. Jason pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against and moves toward Tim, picking up the song where Tim left off.

“ _But, baby I’ve been, I’ve been praying hard_  
 _Said no more counting dollars, we’ll be counting stars_ ”

He slips the headphones off, resting around Tim’s neck. The music plays softly. Jason leans down to plant a small kiss on Tim’s reddening cheek.

“Morning. You should dance for me more often.”

Tim pulls a face and Jason laughs, knowing damn well he’s never going to see that again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt: monster

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Dick had said. And Tim understood what he really meant. Dick worried about what Jason would do. That he was dangerous. He never thought to worry about Tim. 

Jason lays with his head in Tim’s lap, eyes closed and nearest weapon too far away. He trusts Tim. Earlier, they’d fought. Jason said stupid shit, like that they should end it before something goes truly wrong. And Tim understood again. Jason thought himself dangerous. He never thought to worry about Tim.

The monster in Tim stirs as Tim pets Jason’s hair. So beautiful. So vulnerable. Tim’s eyes are trained on Jason’s throat, watching the blood pump under scarred skin. The monster thinks about adding more scars. Tim blinks. What a strange thought, he muses. Must be tired. Tim wouldn’t do that. Tim isn’t dangerous, not to Jason. Tim never has thought to worry about Tim.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe Tim's on pain meds and he's going a little loopy and Jason is the one stuck taking care of him *cue groans from Jay*"

“The otter took it!”

“What?”

“The otter,” Tim insisted, words heavy and drawled. "It slithered in here and took my medicine! What need does a water dog have for Vicodin?“

Jason just stood there for a moment, trying to interpret Tim’s rambling. ”…Water dog?“

“Did you know they hold hands when they sleep?” Tim sat up in his nest of pillows and blankets. He took the glass of juice Jason handed him. Suddenly he looked pained.

Jason immediately tensed. “What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“What if he’s hurt?”

“Who’s hurt?”

“Jason,” Tim said seriously, “You have to find him.”

“Tim, what the hell are you talking about?”

“If he takes too much he may drown!” Tim started flailing his hands, prompting Jason to quickly take the glass before Tim spilled apple juice all over. 

Jason tried his most appeasing voice. “Okay, Tim. Calm down, I’ll find him. I promise, okay?”

Nodding shakily, Tim fell back down and soon was snoring away.

Jason watched him for a minute and then gathered up any dirty dishes to take to the kitchen, where he found Dick. 

“How’s Tim doing?”

“I guess he’s fine, but he’s freaked out about an otter. He says it took his Vicodin and is going to drown.”

Dick laughed.

“What?”

“Tim accidently took too many so I sent Damian in to take his pill bottle away,” Dick answered.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt: “Okay, am I drunk or did you really just say that?”

Tim took the bottle of rum from Jason’s weak grasp and tipped it back. He grimaced at the burn, smacking his lips obnoxiously. Passing it back, he settled more firmly along Jason’s side. They sat on the couch, enjoying the rare silence. That is, until Tim said,

“Bruce and Clark have definitely fucked.”

Jason, who had been on the verge of drifting off, snapped to attention. 

“What the fuck. Am I drunk or did you really just say that?”

“Both,“ Tim answered.

"Tim, baby, why are you thinking about that? And why are we talking about it?”

With an easy shrug, Tim said, “I don’t know, it just felt like it needed acknowledging.”

Jason sat up, rubbing his face with a groan. “No, it really didn’t. I don’t want- how do you even know?”

“Oh come on, Jason. It’s obvious.”

“Right, okay. Well this is not proper Couple Relaxing Time discussion.”

Tim hummed and pushed Jason back down, sprawling on top of him. They were warm and together and happy, appreciating this rare opportunity. Ten minutes later Tim again broke the silence with, 

“So who do you think tops?”

“Fucking hell, Tim.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt: "Okay, when you say love, do you mean love as in like loving pizza or as in love, love?"

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

“Okay, when you say love, do you mean love as in like loving pizza or as in love, love?”

“Loving pizza.”

“Holy shit. Tim, baby, I love you too.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt: "Don’t apologize. That’s not the point. Did you mean it?"

“You’re such an idiot! Everyone loves you. This family loves you, they want you around. I want you around. But you you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself and stewing in your misplaced anger that you can’t see that. God, Jason, how can you be _so smart_ and _so fucking stupid_? Why do you have to push away people that love you?”

“What did you say?”

“Shit. I’m sorry, I just got-”

“Don’t apologize. That’s not the point. Did you mean it?”

“Yes, I mean, everyone asks about you, they want to know how you’re doing and-”

“No. You. You said. How did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“You want… Are you one of the people that loves me?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“…Yeah?”

“Yes. You stupid fucker.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“So. Is that a yes to dinner? Because Alfred threatened my junk food supply if I don’t get you to come.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go. Shit. Haven’t been to Thanksgiving in years.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: stop/jealousy

Jason still sees it, sometimes. That excitement that Tim thinks is gone, that he thinks he outgrew. It’s there in the soft corners of his lips and his slightly eager stance. He doesn’t realize he still leans forward whenever Dick speaks. Because Dick was the first. The one that hugged him, the one that started everything. Tim was his long before Jason came along. 

 

It’s not a threat, not really. Jason knows that. He knows. And yet he still can’t help but place himself between them. To put his arm around Tim’s shoulders and kiss him even though he knows Tim doesn’t like kissing in front of the others. He’s being territorial. He’s being animistic. Marking Tim with his scent, for fuck’s sake. 

 

He needs to stop. Step back, calm down. 

 

But then Dick is talking and Tim is listening. Dick tells them about some battle he fought last night and Tim is captivated.

And Jason lets himself be the animal he is and picks up Tim and walks away. Tim’s flailing, asking what the fuck is wrong with him, (he really hates being picked up- Jason finds that adorable) and Jason doesn’t have an answer. The only word in his mind is, “Mine”.

When Tim stills, Jason realizes he actually said it out loud. Tim lets him carry him up to Tim’s room and Jason lays him down. He crawls over him and wraps his arms and legs in a vice around what’s, “Mine.“

It’s all he can say. He knows he’s being ridiculous. 

 

But Tim just lies there and lets Jason cuddle him.

“Yeah,“ Tim says, rubbing his arm. “Yours.“


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I ask for a mix of Cute and Sleep with JayTim pretty please? Either that, or Unrequited?"

Jason walked into the living room and found Tim sleeping on the floor in a semi circle of case files and notepads, a rainbow of black ink and blue pen and half a dozen colors of highlighter markings. His head rested on his open laptop and Jason laughed when he saw the open email Tim had fallen asleep writing, the bottom half of the page a jumble of discordant letters. 

It was cute. It shouldn’t have been, but it was, against reason, and Jason almost squealed at the sight. 

And while Tim could sleep anywhere, it didn’t look particularly comfortable, so Jason picked him up and gently laid him on the couch. He threw on top an old quilt and Tim immediately nestled into it, making a soft humming noise that had Jason reaching out to pet his hair. Kneeling next to the sofa, Jason allowed himself the rare opportunity to appreciate sleeping Tim. 

He thought about how it would be to see this every day. Well, not every day, as Tim doesn’t sleep every day. But Jason could help with that. Make him go to bed when he’s been working too hard. Drag him to their bed and curl up around him. And Tim would protest at first but Jason wouldn’t let go. Who could ever let go of that? 

Tim had little red lines on his cheek, little squares from when the keyboard pressed into his skin. Jason traced them softly. 

Tim’s eyes fluttered open, though with no real awareness in them. 

“Jay?“ 

"Hey, baby bird,” Jason whispered. "Go back to sleep.“

Mumbling, Tim closed his eyes and leaned into Jason’s hand, now cupping his cheek. Jason’s other hand clenched hard, nails digging into his palm, to restrain himself from pulling Tim into his arms. He forced his hand to drop away and his legs to stand. 

It took reciting to himself every reason he was bad for Tim to make his feet walk away.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: confess

“Admit it!”

“There’s nothing to admit,” Tim yells, red faced and ready to turn this physical if need be. 

Pacing around the kitchen island, Jason points a finger at Tim. “Dammit, you’re so full off shit! I know you took it.“ 

"How do you know it was me?”

“Who the fuck else would it be, Tim? I mean, when something like this happens, there’s a reason we assume it was you.”

Tim steps forward, blocking Jason’s next circuit around the counter. “Well this time it wasn’t, so put that finger away. Now,” he snarls.

Jason thrusts his finger closer to Tim’s face, challenge evident in his expression. 

“Jason.” Low, dangerous. A warning.

“Tim.” Sharp, impatient. An invitation. 

“That’s it!” Tim growls, slapping Jason’s hand away. 

Four minutes later, Bruce strolls into the kitchen to find two of his boys brawling on the floor. Jason has Tim in a headlock and Tim looks about two seconds away from snapping Jason’s ankle. 

“What’s this?”

“Stay out of it, Bruce,” Jason calls. “This is between me and Tim.”

“No, it’s between you and the person that ate your ice cream. Which WASN’T ME!”

Bruce kind of wants to laugh but. He’s tired. These boys are tiring. “Butter pecan ice cream,” he asks.

Jason’s head shoots up. “Yeah.”

“I ate that.”

“What!” Jason screeches as Tim yells,

“I told you! I fucking told you!”

“It was me,” Bruce confirms. “Now let him go.”

The boys scurry away from each other, Tim looking quite offended, Jason simultaneously livid at Bruce and apologetic at Tim.

“I’m. Sorry, baby.”

Tim huffs, straightening his clothes. “Yeah, you should be.” He actually pouts, and Bruce can see Jason melting inside. 

“Well I’m sorry for eating your ice cream. Now you two kiss and make up. But somewhere else.”

Jason grins, cunning in that way Bruce absolutely hates.

“We were here first. Besides this can be your punishment.” 

He then tackles Tim, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach. Tim’s protests turn into giggles shortly and Bruce leaves before the giggles turn into something else. Something he really never wants to hear from any of his kids.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompts: “Come over here and make me.” and “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

Tim was a stubborn bastard. Jason had no qualms about telling him that.

“Tim, you’re a stubborn bastard.”

The flick of Tim’s hand was both acknowledgement and dismissal. He didn’t even turn around from the monitor. 

“It’s been what, thirty hours?”

This time the hand waved in a so-so manner.

“You need to go to bed.”

“I’m busy.”

Oh, a verbal response. Progress.

“Go to sleep, Tim.”

“No.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Fuck off, Jay.”

“Go to sleep.”

The tightening shoulders and scrunched lips told him Tim was about ready to crack. 

“Shut up. Go away.”

“Tim.”

Clenching fists, tapping foot.

“Tim, go to sleep.”

Swinging around, Tim yelled, “Come over here and make me, Jason!”

“I will!”

“I fucking dare you!”

And Jason wanted to, to pick him up and carry the bird to bed, but there was a light in his eyes that scared him. It was raw, the result of too little sleep and too little clues in the case and probably too little food as well. Maybe pissing him off wasn’t the best tactic… 

“Cake.”

Tim blinked, trying to compute the word that was not at all what he expected. 

“Burgers,” Jason said. “If you take a break, I’ll get you some food. You need to eat, at least.”

“I. I really need to keep…” Tim glanced back at the screen.

He was weakening. 

“We can watch a movie, your choice. Star Wars or some shit.”

Head tilt. Considering. 

Tim rubbed his neck, and Jason saw what could finally pull him out of that chair.

“Massage.“ 

"What?”

“Do you want… I mean… I could give you a massage? Your neck must be killing you, staring up at the screen so long. And your back, sitting hunched over like that.”

Jason was sure, had Tim been well rested, the reaction would have been an eye roll accompanied by a snarky comment. Now, however, Tim just sat back heavily, showing his utter exhaustion. 

“…Better be a big cake.”

Jason smiled triumphantly. “The biggest.”

“Chocolate.”

“Of course.”

“Wrath of Kahn.”

“Sure thing.”

Tim stood up slowly, swaying a bit. “…Did you mean it? About the. You know.”

“Yeah,” Jason grabbed an arm to help steady him as they headed upstairs. “Whatever you need, Timmy.”

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you care so much?”

Tim looked up at him, bleary, tired eyes and pale cheeks. Jason swallowed the words he wanted to say, the ones that had been burning his tongue for months. Instead he just said, 

“That’s what brothers do, right?"


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: breaking the rules

Contrary to popular belief, Jason Todd is not a bad kid.

He cares about his grades, studies hard and does extra credit assignments. He helps out around the house, whenever Alfred lets him cook dinner.

Yeah, he smokes the occasional cigarette, but should that really brand him as a hoodlum permanently? His street accent probably doesn’t help either.

Point is: Jason Todd is a good kid.

Tim Drake is not.

Unfortunately, Jason is the only one that knows this. And there’s no one would believe him if he testified to that, so he stopped trying. So when they get caught skipping class, it’s Jason’s fault. When he gets caught sneaking out to see Tim, it was Jason’s idea. Tim actually tried to take the blame at first, and rightly so as it was he who was to blame, but no one bought it.

Tim Drake is crazy. It’s a good kind of crazy, usually. Jason digs that kind of crazy. It’s the kind that gets Jason pushed up against the lockers, Tim’s tongue in his mouth and the hall is filled with students, it’s a passing period for fuck’s sake, but Tim just kisses him like he’ll never get another chance. It’s also the kind that makes him steal one of Bruce’s classic Mustangs in the middle of the night and drive to Utah because Tim’s never seen the Grand Canyon and _isn’t this just the perfect time for it, Jason?_

They’re somewhere in Ohio when Bruce calls. Tim answers very politely. There’s a lot of _yes, Mr. Wayne_. And _I understand_. And then Tim does that thing where he’s ten kinds of charming and innocent and eventually he hangs up and says, “We have the weekend. Gotta be back by school Monday.”

Jason wonders if in Tim’s mind that means next Monday. Probably.

“Oh!“ Tim points at a sign advertising the country’s best apple pie. "We have to stop there. Take the next exit.”

“Really? You know it’s just some crappy diner, same pie as in Gotham.”

Tim looks at Jason like he’s the crazy one. “It’s the country’s _best_ , Jason. We’re going to try it.”

It was pretty good pie.

They’re skirting the line between Kansas and Nebraska when Tim tells him to pull over.

“Are you sick?”

“No. I just need to do something.”

So Jason pulls the car to the side of the road and the second he parks, Tim jumps into the back seat and pulls Jason back after him. They do kiss for a while, but they end up just lying there, Tim’s ear against his chest.

“You okay, baby?”

“I needed to hear you.”

“You couldn’t hear me while I was driving? I was talking plenty.”

“I need to hear _you._ Your heartbeat. Your breathing.”

That’s where they sleep that night.

When they stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon Jason takes Tim’s hand and thanks him.

“For what?”

There are so many things. For being that right kind of crazy. For knowing what rules to break to make life spectacular. For that stability he gives Jason, in spite of being the most random person he knows. For being Tim.

“For kisses in the hallway and sleeping on the side of the road and apple pie.”

“Country’s _best_ apple pie.”

“Yeah,” Jason says, looking at Tim while Tim looks at the view. “The best.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: first kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song is First Kiss by Ed Sheeran

Coins rattled as they landed in the hat, about twenty dollars so far. Jason looked up, nodding thanks to the woman who’d dropped them. He thumped out an easy beat on his bucket. Next to him, Tim played the violin.

More than played, really. He caressed the thing. His movements were soft and caring, tender. He loved that violin.

Jason might have been a touch jealous.

He sang, “ _Kiss me like you want to be loved_.”

Tim echoed, “ _Wanna be loved, wanna be loved_.”

A five dropped in. Score. It was a good day. Personally, Jason thought he owed it all to Tim. Tim made everything beautiful. Jason had hardly scraped by before they found each other.

“This feels like I've fallen in love.”

“ _Fallen in love, fallen in love_.”

‘Found’ meaning they set up to perform on the same corner and were both too stubborn to move and spent the day playing over each other. After five hours of that nonsense, something magical happened. Yes, magical. They played the same song, at the same time. They played together and in that four minutes made three times as much money as they had all day. Which, really, wasn’t too much considering they sounded terrible trying to out play each other. Still.

“ _Settle down with me and I’ll be your safety. You’ll be my lady_.”

Jason winked at Tim, who shook his head but with a small smile.

They’d been performing together for six months now, and living together in whatever abandoned spaces they could find. They didn’t have much of anything but Tim’s violin. And each other.

Jason didn’t mind.

He thought maybe Tim didn’t either.

“ _So hold you close to help you give it up_.”

Jason watched Tim. He sang to him, though Tim didn’t notice. For the most part, Tim closed his eyes when they performed. He wasn’t as comfortable in front of an audience and it helped to not see them. Jason’s favorite moments were when they were alone in their shitty apartment practicing, and Tim would look back at Jason then.

He sang, “ _Kiss me like you want to be loved_.”

Tim echoed, “ _Wanna be loved, wanna be loved_.”

“ _This feels like I've fallen in love_.”

“ _Fallen in love, fallen in love_.”

When the song ended Jason leaned forward and, with Tim’s eyes still closed, kissed him.

He wasn’t sure what flustered Tim more, the kiss or the applause from the crowd.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: happy birthday + secret admirer

Tim only remembered it was his birthday when he saw a gift sitting on his desk. The wrapping paper had dinosaurs on it and a green bow almost bigger than the box itself sat on top. There was no card, no sticker, no indication of who left it. After checking for traps or triggers, he opened the box and saw-

the best birthday gift he’d ever gotten.

-

“Happy birthday, little brother.”

“Thanks, Cass.”

“Sorry I can’t be there. The burdens of being the best.”

“It’s fine. Yeah, they would be screwed without you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“So did you send a present?”

“On it’s way.”

“Really? Oh, okay. Because I found one this morning but I don’t know who it’s from.”

“Hm.”

“Hm? You know who it is?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not gonna tell me?”

“No.”

“Right. Thanks, sis. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah.”

-

“Happy birthday, Tim”

“Thanks, Bruce.”

“I thought we could patrol together later.”

“Sounds great. Is that my present?”

“That and the upgrades I installed in the redbird.”

“ _Sweet_.”

-

“Happy birthday!”

“Hey, Dick. Thanks.”

“Here. From me and Babs.”

“You know, my current laptop works just fine.”

“Yeah, but this one has been personally upgraded and customized by _Oracle_. Can’t get better than that.”

-

“Drake.”

“Yo.”

“I’ve been forced into this, so don’t misconstrue this as an act of brotherly affection.”

“I would never. Tickets to the ballet?”

“What, do you not like them? Should I return them for something more on your level, say, a monster truck rally?”

“No, no, this is great. But why two?”

“I spoke with Cain.”

“…And?”

“ _Tt_ \- you fool.”

-

“Happy birthday, Master Timothy.”

“Mmh. Thaksh, Alfred. Thish cake ish sho good, mmff.”

“Surely I thought you better than that, hm?”

“Sorry.”

-

“Replacement.”

“Hey. Did you leave a present for me?”

“…Why would I?”

“Some one left me a birthday present. I’ve already talked to everyone else, it wasn’t them. I figured I may as well ask you.”

“Hm. Happy birthday.”

“Yeah, thanks. So?”

“So?”

“Was it you?”

“Like I said, why would I?”

-

“I still don’t know who it was.”

“And you talked to… _everyone_?”

“Yeah, now can you just tell me? I know you know. You know everything. Even from Hong Kong.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“They aren’t ready.”

“Shit. This is remarkably annoying.”

“You are remarkably stupid.”

“Love you too, Cass.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: first kiss + grinding

“Jay,” Tim panted, his skin hot and muscles tense. Hands worked their way down his back, up his chest, wrapped around him from behind. Jason’s breath fluttered against his neck, and then his tongue, making Tim groan, “Oh, _fuck_ …”

Jason hummed and Tim felt the vibrations where his back met Jason’s chest.

“Is that a request?”

Tim ground back into Jason, whining when he felt the hardness there. He took Jason’s hand and dragged it down, and Jason squeezed him lightly.

“Yes. Fuck _yes, Jason_ -“

"Tim?”

“ _Yeah_?”

“Tim!”

“What?”

“Tim, wake up!”

Tim shot up, instantly aware, although he really wished he wasn’t because he was sitting in the cave, hard as hell and surrounded by Dick, Cass, and-

Jason.

It was awkward.

So. Painfully. Awkward.

Speaking of painful, Tim shifted, trying to cover himself, at least a little bit.

“You were, uh.” Dick looked anywhere but at Tim as he tried to find a delicate way to put it. “Talking. In your sleep.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Tim said but his voice came out breathy in a way that made Dick wince. Big brothers were not supposed to hear fucked out voices like that. Tim cleared his throat. “Right. Um, sorry.”

And really, what else could he say?

Cass was laughing. Silently, but laughing at him nonetheless.

Tim didn’t have the courage to actually look at Jason yet. He took a moment to try and will down his… _problem_. The faster the better. Then he could run away. Forever.

“Well hell, baby bird.” Tim snapped up to look at Jason. “If you wanted to fuck, you should have just told me.”

“Oh my God,” Dick mumbled as he promptly turned and left.

Still laughing, Cass walked over and laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Good luck,” she whispered with a wink and then _skipped away._

Which left just Jason and Tim.

Tim had no fucking idea what to say.

“I don’t- I mean, I know you don’t. Um.”

See? No idea.

“Although,” Jason said as he took a step closer. “We haven’t even kissed yet, so. Might wanna make that a priority.”

“Um. What?”

Tim’s brain needed to be fired.

Jason sauntered over in front of Tim and leaned down.

“We can even go to dinner first. I’m a gentleman, you know.”

This time, Tim didn’t even try to respond. He put every ounce of energy into not exploding when Jason held his chin lightly and kissed him.

“ _Yes_."


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: tongue-tied

Jason thought he had an understanding of his own weaknesses, but this was new. And unexpected.

It was just a word. One word.

One word from Tim’s lips was all it took to turn him into an idiot. Like, couldn’t form coherent sentences kind of idiot. His response shrivelled up and died in his throat; he went hot all over and couldn’t move, even when his fingers wanted so badly to graze Tim’s mouth, those beautiful lips that had just reduced Jason to a damn puddle.

Nobody had ever said that to him before.

Tim had said it so casually. Jason doubts he even realised he said it, just something he muttered in the heat of the moment. And from his lack of reaction to Jason freezing up, he didn’t notice how it affected Jason. That was a problem because Jason wanted to hear it again.

He just… didn’t know how to ask for it.

He was embarrassed. Was it okay for him to want this so badly? Would Tim think differently of him? Fuck, he hoped not. Everyone had something, right? This just happened to be Jason’s thing. Tim loved him. He’d probably go along with it. Hopefully.

With sweaty palms- fuck, he didn’t even get sweaty palms fighting for his life- he approached Tim who sat on the couch, computer on his lap, tippity-tap of the keys the only noise.

He could do this. _It’s easy. Just say it_.

“Uh, hey. Tim.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

And- there it was.

That word.

That one word that turned Jason into a motherfucking mess.

Fucking _sweetheart_.

Jason froze, tongue suddenly having lost the ability to move. He may have squeaked. Not sure about that. Too distracted by the grin pulling at the side of Tim’s mouth.

“What is it, honey?”

His fucking knees were trembling. _Get it together, Todd. What is wrong with you?_

“You-” Jason’s voice was thin and it _cracked_ , for fuck’s sake.

“Is something wrong… _dear_?”

Tim looked far too impressed with himself.

So he did notice.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "dying in your arms? It's the best way to go"

Jason sucks in a breath but inhales the blood in his mouth too. That’s okay, there’s already blood in his lungs.

“Ya know, this is better than last time.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No, I mean it.” He does his best to focus but his vision is blurring. He reaches out to what he hopes is Tim’s cheek. “Here, with you. A much better way to go.”

Tim’s wrapping more and more bandages around Jason’s chest. He runs out and yanks off his own cape, bundling up Jason like a newborn.

“Shut up. This isn’t like that because you’re not dying.” His voice is starting to break.

Jason tries to grab him but his hand is too weak to really get a grip. “Tim. Tim, please stop.”

“Can’t stop.”

“Timmy, baby, look at me.”

Tim’s hands still and he slowly looks from Jason’s abdomen (and all that blood- _so much blood_ ) to his face. He’d slipped off the cowl a few minutes ago and Jason can see it. The fear, the desperation. He wants so badly to comfort him, but he can’t lie. Not to Tim, not about this.

“I’ve been here before. I know what’s happening.”

Tim makes a sound like a wounded animal.

“Thank you, Tim.”

“For what? I wasn’t- I didn’t save you-”

“No. Don’t do that.“ His voice is so weak now and Tim has to lean down until his forehead is resting against Jason’s to hear him. Or maybe that isn’t to hear him. "Thank you for being here with me. It’s better. It’s important.”

The first time had been lonely, even though he wasn’t alone.

He feels tears dropping onto his face and Tim’s arms tightening around him.

“Jay, please don’t,” he cries. “Don’t do this again. _Please_.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” But he’s not really that sorry because he’s selfish and he’s happy to get to go like this. Wrapped up in Tim’s love.

It really is the best way to go.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> grinding+bite

Jason hovers above Tim, hands on either side of his face and one leg between his. He kisses him, nibbling lightly on Tim’s bottom lip, which earns him a faint moan. He slides his tongue through those lips, which earns him- not a moan.

Pulling away, Tim grimaces.

“Sorry. I just… don’t really like that.”

“You don’t like…”

“Tongue. It’s gross. Feels weird.” Tim shrugs apologetically.

“Okay,” Jason breathes against Tim’s lips, going back to kissing, minus tongue. He moves down to Tim’s jaw, then his neck, and Tim flinches, hand flying up to cover his neck, laughing.

“S-sorry, I’m ticklish there.”

“It’s fine,” Jason smiles and moves down again, to Tim’s chest. He sucks and licks and nibbles and bites until Tim is squirming beneath him and- yes, okay, this is better.

Except Tim pushes him off.

So that squirming was not writhing in bliss.

“I’m sorry-”

“What, you don’t like that either?”

“No…” Tim looks away. “It just doesn’t do anything for me. And I don’t like biting.”

“You don’t want me to mark you?”

“I just don’t see the appeal, and it doesn’t actually feel good, so.”

Jason just stays there for a moment, halfway lying on Tim and staring at all that skin his tongue is itching to touch. He stares and he ponders and he realises he has no idea what to do now. Apparently his only move is kissing sloppily and leaving hickeys.

While he’s wracking his brain for some other form of foreplay, he shifts his hips, leg sliding up and Tim’s breath hitches. Jason does it again. Tim gasps.

_Well alright, here we go._

One hand gripping Tim’s hipbone, Jason grinds down and is rewarded with one of those precious moans, though it’s still too quiet. He bears down harder and Tim gets louder.

 _Now we’re getting somewhere_.

“Jason, wait.”

“Tim. You cannot tell me you don’t like this.”

Laughing, Tim shakes his head. “I do. I just want to take off my jeans. It’s getting… a little tight.”

“Allow me, baby.” Jason grins, reaching down to unbutton and unzip the offensive pants and pulls them down. He shuffles down. “You know, I’m thinking there’s one place you wouldn’t mind being licked.”

“I doubt tha-” Tim groans, the loudest so far. “ _Yeah,_ okay you might be right.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "how about spin the bottle with jaytim (and maybe a little jealous!jay somewhere)??"

They were cheating. He knew it. He didn’t know how, but they were…. somehow. And it was pissing him the fuck off.

How do you even cheat at spin the bottle? Did the entire group take bottle spinning lessons? He can understand the bats, they all have training that they could use for this. But Wally? The super brat? Fucking _Roy?_ Every one of their friends seems to have developed bottle-manipulating powers.

_“Again?”_

Jason tries not to sound angry. He’s going for casually-indifferent-but-understandably-slightly-curious.

Judging by the look on Dick’s face, he’s failing. Badly. Jason wants to punch that face. Like, really a lot because it is now leaning forward, crawling across the carpet, and _kissing Tim._

_Son-of-a-Sasquatch-on-a-stick-fucking-a-unicorn-gosh-dammit-shit_

How many times is that for Dick, now? Four?

And how many times for Jason? ZERO.

By now, Tim is blushing. Jason has never seen Tim blush. It’s doing things to him.

Cass spins next and hey, looky there, it lands on Tim. What a mother fuckin surprise. She leans over Babs to reach him and just before she _kisses Tim_ she _winks_ at Jason.

And that’s when he starts to suspect that they’re all doing this to mess with Jason, not Tim. Which means…

Shit.

_They know._

They’re doing this on purpose to… what? Get a rise out of him? Make him confess his undying love- like! he meant like- in front of everybody?

Well fuck that. Fuck them. Manipulative bastards. _Sneaky shits_.

It’s his turn now and he is going to land on Tim. Deep breath. Concentrate. Use that training. He can hit a two-by-two inch moving target from fifty feet away with a bent blade he _can do this._

He grabs the bottle. Spins.

It turns and turns and slows and stops and is pointing at… Tim!

“YES! Fucking _finally_ ,” Jason yells.

And then he freezes.

Everybody freezes.

They’re all staring at him, wide-eyed, obviously trying not to laugh.

Jason wants to die. Again. This may be the most embarrassing moment of his life. Which, in a life like theirs, is impressive.

“Um,” someone says. He thinks it’s Tim.

“Wow, Jay,” Stephanie says. “You’re pretty excited about that.”

Something in him shifts and says _fuck it_. “You know what? I am.”

Jason crawls over like a wolf cornering its prey. He can’t read Tim’s expression very well but he hopes it’s a good kind of nervous. Barbara and Wally move away from Tim and Jason very much approves of that action. He kneels in front of Tim and, grabbing the back of Tim’s neck with both hands, Jason smashes their lips together. It only takes a moment to start nibbling and licking because dammit he’s making this the best kiss Tim has had tonight. Best kiss he’s ever had.

He kisses him until someone coughs pointedly and he pulls back, reveling in Tim’s dazed look.

Tim smiles. “ _Finally_.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Uh, hi I really liked the jaytim spin the bottle and well going off that could you maybe do a seven minutes in heaven spin off ?"

They were doing it again and they weren’t even trying to be sneaky about it. These shitheads, his “friends”, were blatantly fucking with him. There was no ulterior motive this time. No plan for manipulating him into action that was, in the end, for his own good. No. They were just being mean.

“Oh my, look at that,” Stephanie cooed. “It seems I’ve landed on _Tim_ again.”

Tim, the brat, laughed as Steph pulled him up and away, into the closet. The first few times he’d gotten ten kinds of awkward but then he realised what was happening and apparently thought it was fucking hilarious.

Jason didn’t think it was hilarious.

Before closing the door she looked to Jason with a smirk. “I’ll try to keep it down for you.”

For the next seven minutes, Jason listened to Stephanie moaning, calling out Tim’s name in fake ecstasy. Girl was a damn good actress.

The rest of the group laughed into their hands, watching Jason’s carefully blank face. After a particularly loud, “Oh, _fuck yes,_ Tim!” Jason’s eye twitched and Dick started laughing outright.

Finally Stephanie dragged Tim out of the closet. His hair was ruffled. Her ponytail was sloppy and loose hair tangled across her swollen lips. Her belt was unbuckled. They’d switched t-shirts.

All around, pretty convincing. Jason nearly applauded.

“Your turn,” Babs told him.

Jason picked up the bottle, threw it up so that it flipped in the air, caught it, and slammed it back down, pointing at Tim.

“Cheater,” Cass chimed.

“Fuck you all,” he said as he stood and tugged Tim into the closet, slamming the door shut behind them.

For the next seven minutes, everyone outside listened to Tim moaning, calling out Jason’s name in ecstasy.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JayTim + "regency" (three sentences)

The painting was beautiful of course, they’d hired the most famous, most talented artist of the time and it was a masterpiece in both style and execution, with vivid colors and realism that defied logic. 

But what truly made it beautiful, many thought, was the longing, pained, yet also delighted look on young Prince Timothy's face.

Historians debated the cause of it, some saying the subject was thinking of his country, some that the artist had taken liberties, while romantics (and, secretly, nearly everyone) believed he had been looking at his trusted guard, Sir Jason, who must have been standing in the corner of the room.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Making out (almost getting farther) in the back of the movie theatre for jaytim??"

Jason tasted like popcorn and the cherry shush that made his tongue cold, which was nice. His hand, however, was hot and sweaty from nerves, which was cute as hell but less nice when Jason grabbed his face. Leaning forward, he crowded Tim into the armrest and it dug into his spine. 

The seat squeaked every time they moved. Part of Tim worried that some one would hear and turn around but the movie was so loud, he didn’t think anyone could hear them. Even when he really went to town on Jason mouth, making him groan and whine. 

The movie was too loud, really. He couldn’t not listen to it. Though he tried to just focus on Jason, at one point there was a joke and Tim laughed. Jason pulled back, questioning look in his eyes like he somehow thought Tim was laughing at him. He shook his head and pulled Jason back in, sliding his hand under his t-shirt to touch the lines of Jay’s muscles. 

Jason’s kisses got a little sloppy, being distracted by Tim rubbing his abs and tickling his sides. Tim followed the hair from Jason’s belly button to the top of his jeans, tugged on the fabric, silently questioning, and Jason grunted, shifting closer. He unfastened the button and slid his hand down into the pants, feeling Jason through his boxers. Jason moaned and moved down to lick at Tim’s neck, gently pulling the skin between his teeth, sucking harder when Tim started to pant heavily. 

Suddenly a light shone in their faces. 

“Excuse me, sirs. I’m going to have to ask you to leave the theater.“


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can you do a Jaytim fic with Jason being protective and jealous because a stranger is becoming "too close" with Tim??? Bonus points if they have some rough fun times later on"

Tim does not need help with his backswing.

Tim knows it. Jason knows it. The golf pro must know it because he’s a PRO and Tim’s backswing is a thing of beauty, any amateur can see that. Still, Robert (Bob, please. _Call me Bob, Tim_.) is standing behind him, correcting his perfect stance, wrapping his arms around him. Sliding his hands down Tim’s arms. His crotch is about half an inch from Tim’s ass and Jason is about to snap.

“Yeah, that’s better,“ Bob coos in Tim’s ear. "Just like that. _So good_.”

Fucker sounds like he’s in a porno. Really, who talks like that in real life? In public? In front of the guy’s boyfriend? Even if Bob doesn’t know they’re together, if he thinks Jason is a friend or brother, it’d still be awkward as fuck.

Bob guides Tim into lifting the club up and back, slowly, his body twisting around Tim’s.

“You feel that, Tim? That stretch in your thigh?”

“ _Yeah_ , Bob, feels good.”

And what fuck, Tim?! He’s just letting it happen. Encouraging it!

Jason grips the driver in his hands hard, nearly bending the rod.

“And swing down, so smooth, yeah that’s it. Cock your hip like,” Bob presses himself fully against Tim now, guiding his hips with his own and-

“That’s it!” Jason stomps forward, grabs Bob by his collar and yanks him away. “If you want something up your ass so badly I can help with that,” Jason yells, brandishing the club. “I’ll shove it right up there if you touch Tim again.”

Throwing his hands up, Bob stammers, “W-woah, hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. Calm down.”

“Bullshit, you nasty bastard.” He takes a step forward, making Bob back up even farther.

“Bob,” Tim says sweetly, “You should probably go now. Thank you _so much_ for your help.”

While Bob scampers away Jason turns back to Tim. “What the hell was that, Tim?”

Tim’s smile turns sharp, his eyes dark and hungry. “ _Intentional_.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "TIM'S A TINY THING SO JASON LIKES PICKING HIM UP WHEN THEY'RE SPARRING AND HE JUST LIFTS HIM TO WRAP TIMS LEGS AROUND HIS WAIST AND HE LOVES HOLDING HIM UP AND PRESSING HIM AGAINST THE WALLS AND KISSING WHERE THE BATFAM CAN SEE AND IF THEY GET DAMI TO BLUSH THATS EVEN BETTER PLEASE WRITE SMTH ABOUT THIS"

With a _thump_ that echoed throughout the cave, Jason fell back onto the mat.

“Round one goes to Tim,” Dick called.

Tim leaned over, looking down at Jason and Jason had this ridiculous moment of enchantment because the light above shone through the loose hair coming out of Tim’s bun and he was so damn beautiful.

“Need a hand?”

“You’re so damn beautiful.”

“Right,” Tim drawled, rolling his eyes.

Taking the proffered hand, he let Tim help pull him up.

“I mean it. You’re so hot when you fight. You’re tiny but you still kick my ass. It does things to me.“

Tim smirked. "What kinds of things?”

“Oh, fuck, so many things, Tim.” Jason reached out, grabbing Tim’s hips and pulling him close. “I love how small you are. I can cuddle up around you or pick you up so easily, but I’m still afraid of you.”

“You should be,” Tim purred.

“Oh, I am, baby.”

“Hey,” Dick yelled. “There are other people here, you know. Kids!” He pointed to Damian, who was looking anywhere but at the two of them.

“He’s right,” said Tim. “You should do something about that.”

Grinning, Jason picked up Tim, who wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist. He planted a hand on the bottom of each thigh and squeezed, making Tim gasp and squirm against his abdomen.

Dick whined, “Oh come on. That’s not cool, guys.” He had one hand help up over Damian’s eyes, the other pulling him away by the shoulder. “Let’s go, Dami. Can’t even train in our own damn cave,” he muttered bitterly as they left.

Tim’s laughter was eaten up by Jason’s mouth on his.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "PLEASE WRITE MORE ONT HE REGENCY AU OMFG SIR JASON I HAVE NEVER GASPED SO LOUD IN MY LIFE "

Jason snatched a book from the shelf and handed it to Timothy, who came as close to pouting as any respectable noble could. 

“I could have gotten it myself.”

Jason smiled. “Really? How?”

The shelf was too high for him to ever hope to reach. “I’ll get a ladder, or a step stool.” 

“Why? You’ll always have me.”

Timothy turned away, hiding his red cheeks as he walked over to the couch. The library was huge, with dozens of sofas, yet still Sir Jason followed and sat on the same one as the prince. 

They spent the afternoon there, with a slim space between them as Timothy read aloud. Jason knew how to read but he always preferred to listen to Timothy. It reminded him of when they were boys, after the king had found Jason on the streets. Bruce had been wandering through the town, face hidden by a modest cloak so that he could spend time among the people just as any other man. He’d tied up his horse at a post and when he went to retrieve it, found it had been stolen. By means of which he still refused to tell, Bruce somehow tracked it to a hovel on the edge of town, where Jason was grooming the animal. 

And, like any normal and sane king, Bruce brought the thief home to the palace after he learned Jason was orphaned. When asked, he said he liked the boy’s attitude and bravery, and also he felt the prince could use a friend. Timothy was quiet and reserved, and didn’t have any companions his own age. Dick was several years older, and Damian was still a baby. 

It took time for the two to get along. Jason was scared (although he never admitted it) to be in this new place, so different than anything he’d known. He would lash out at the family's kindness. Timothy didn’t talk to him much, not knowing how to interact with someone in a casual setting. 

One day Timothy was reading in the library when Jason snuck in, looking at all of the books in wonder. 

Gathering his courage, Timothy said, “Do you like to read, Jason?”

Jason spun around, not having seen Timothy on the couch, knocking over a stack of books in the process. Cursing, he rushed to pick them up. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Timothy assured as he help picked up the books. “So? Would you like to read with me?”

“I, um…” Shuffling his feet, Jason looked away from the prince. “I don’t know how.”

“Oh. Well I could teach you, if you want.“ 

"Really?”

“Yeah! Come here,” Timothy ran back to the sofa, patting the space next to him. They spent the afternoon there, a book on the seat between them.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "JayTim and the first time Jason says 'I love you'? Or maybe when he realises he loves Tim? Please?"

It was the stupidest thing, really. Tim was eating spaghetti. He’d taken a bite and this noodle was hanging from his mouth and he slurped it up but it was really, really long and he went cross-eyed staring at the thing, too stubborn to just let it go. It twirled around as he sucked it in and flung sauce all over his cheeks but then when he finally got the end he smiled, like this was some huge accomplishment. 

And then everything just kind of… clicked. Jason stared at him. Nothing had changed, and yet everything was different. Like everything in his world had been off by two inches and suddenly it was all put into place.

“Hey, Tim?”

“Hm?”

“I think I love you.”

The strings of noodles hanging from his mouth stilled as Tim stopped chewing and he looked up at Jason. After a moment too long he mumbled, “I love you too,” but he still had spaghetti in his mouth so it wasn’t very romantic. 

Jason knew he didn’t mean it, but he smiled anyway. 

Later that night Tim called and started speaking as soon as Jason picked up.

“Hey, so, I’m sorry. I said it earlier, but just because you did, and that’s what you do when someone says that, right? You say it back? I mean, I couldn’t not say it back. There’s really no-”

“Tim.”

“Okay. Right. So, I thought about it. And I love you, too.”

This time Jason knew he meant it, and he smiled so big he crept out the cashier as he paid for his groceries.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "jaytim coming out to dick? "

Dick opened the hallway closet door and saw something so shocking, so utterly scandalous, that he couldn’t help but shriek, _“Timmy, no!”_

What he saw, what no older brother should ever be subjected to, was Tim pinned against the wall, his hand down Jason’s pants, Jason’s lips on Tim’s neck, both of them flushed and panting.

They froze, in mid rut. Dick froze, hand clutching his chest.

“Um,” Tim eventually said as he snapped his arm away from Jason’s- Dick tried not to think about it. “Hey.”

“T-Tim, _baby_ bird, what is this?”

Jason, who had yet to pull back from pushing in between Tim’s legs, said, “Well I thought you’d know, Dickie. Did some one not get the birds-and-the-bees talk? Or, rather, the birds-and-the-birds.”

“Not- I mean, this is- what is. _You two!”_

“Yeah, um, I’m gay,” Tim said. “And… with Jason.”

Jason laughed. “ _Surprise_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized the day after I wrote this that Tim and Jason come out to Dick whilst in a closet. They come out of the closet IN A CLOSET. I did not do that intentionally and I laughed so hard when it hit me.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "what if jaytim were together but jay left to join up with the outlaws, and tim's heartbroken, so he ruins himself. he throws himself at any large, 6ft guy and lets them treat him however he wants. they usually treat him badly, too. the batfam watches and knows they can't do anything, but damian will be damned if he watches his brother get treated like shit by some idiot. (not damitim but dami being sweet) and when jason happens upon tim.... finish pls?"

“I’m sorry, baby bird. I have to do this.”

Tim didn’t answer. If he’d opened his mouth he would have begged Jason to stay, and he couldn’t let himself do that.

-

“Hey, Tim. I’m sorry about… You know.”

Tim just nodded. Dick meant well, but his pity wasn’t comforting at all. It wasn’t what Tim needed.

What he needed was Jason.

-

“Call me baby,” Tim pleaded.

“Oh, _fuck_ , you feel so good, _baby_.“

It wasn’t the same. He was too small, didn’t have the scars, smelled like menthol instead of reds. It wasn’t the same, but, "Again, _please_.”

-

“Are you okay, Tim?”

“Yeah, B, I’m fine.” He wasn’t, never thought he would be again.

“That bruise on your shoulder-”

“Ivy. One of her plants caught me off guard. Won’t happen again.”

That night he let it happen again. Sought it out. He just got more careful about covering himself in front of the family.

-

“What are you doing here, Damian?”

“Get up. I’m taking you home.” The man sleeping next to Tim rolled over, snoring. " _Tt_. Disgusting.“

"He’s not that bad.”

“I meant you, Drake. Let’s go. Now.”

-

“What’s the point? I don’t- don’t even know who I am without him. I’ve never known who I am.”

“You know, Drake, I always said you were unworthy, pathetic. I never truly believed it until now. You don’t know who you are? Well I do. Father does. Grayson and Pennyworth and Cain see you.”

“What do you see?”

“Sacrifice. You’ve sacrificed yourself to whomever needed it. In most ways, it’s a beautiful thing. Your capacity to love is… admirable. But you also give yourself to those who don’t deserve it. You give until you have nothing left and look how lost you are now because of it.”

“I know, I shouldn’t have-”

“I’m referring to Todd. He’s the one that didn’t deserve you.”

“What? Of course he did!”

“No. You gave all of yourself to him and he didn’t return it. He left, taking your pieces with him. The fool.”

-

“Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“I’m… doing better. Just thought you should know that.”

“I know, Tim. I’m glad.”

It was the first thing in too long that wasn't a lie.

-

“I’m sorry, baby bird. I’m so _fucking sorry_. I was a fool.”

“You talked with Damian?”

“He tracked me down in Mongolia. Kid’s pretty wise, for a demon brat.”

“Yeah, I know. Come on in, I’ll make a pot of coffee.”


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Could you write jaytim in snk au? ?"

Tim woke suddenly, jolting up, ready to fight, except he was stopped by chains shackled to his wrists, and after a moment he realized the people he was trying to save were already dead. Blinking back memories and the tears they brought, he looked around and found himself in a cell. On the other side of the bars a man sat, casually reading through a file sitting in his lap. Tim thought he might recognize him. Next to him stood a soldier, arms crossed and staring back at Tim hard. Tim _knew_ he recognized him.

Jason. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Everyone knew who Jason was. His stripe of white hair was easily identifiable. He also had a multitude of scars, marking him as a seasoned veteran, although there were stories that he’d gotten most of those not from war, but from the Underground. People said he’d been a thug, some gang leader. They also said he was crazy.

Tim thought anyone who’d been though even half of what Jason had seen had a right to be a little crazy.

The sitting man closed the file and looked up, and Tim now saw his face and knew him. Bruce Wayne. Commander of the Survey Corps. “What do you want, Mr. Drake?”

“W-what?” His voice was weak. Too weak _, always weak._

“I’ve been reading about you, and what you did in Trost.” He waved the papers in his hand. “Hell of a trick.”

Trost. What did he do in Trost? Tim remembered titans, hundreds of them. They were coming in through a hole in the gate. Or rather, where the gate used to be. He’d transformed and…

“Did I do it? Did it work?”

Bruce smiled something small and wary. “Yes. You sealed the hole. Do you not remember?”

“What about Cass? And Steph? Are they okay?”

“Your friends are fine, Mr. Drake. Again, you don’t remember?”

Tim shook his head.

“Hm. Interesting.” Bruce let the moment hang, and Tim found himself looking at Jason instead. He was on edge, watching Tim like the boy might rip them shreds any second. Which, Tim thought with a grimace, he had reason to worry.

Bruce spoke again, forcing Tim to look away from Jason. “I’m sure you can appreciate the situation we’re in. This is new territory, for all of us. The Military Brigade wants to kill you. I want to use you. The question is, Mr. Drake, what do you want?”

What did Tim want? Tim wanted his life back. He wanted to go to sleep and not see his mother being ripped in half. He wanted to know where his father was. He wanted this world to be different. He wanted to change the world.

And now he could. Now he had power.

“I. I want to _help_. I want to save my friends. I want to save people.” He was yelling now. Not weak, _not weak_ , "I want to _kill_ all of the titans!“

“Not bad.”

Tim startled when he realized it was Jason who had spoken.

Jason stepped forward, right up to the bars. Without taking his eyes off Tim, he said, “I’ll take him. I’m sure I can keep him in line, and I’m the only one who can kill him if the time comes.”

Tim thought maybe that should scare him more, but he met Jason’s eyes and felt… comforted. He must be losing his mind, too.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for [cinnamonskull](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_skull/pseuds/cinnamon_skull). happy birthday!

Tim slipped into the window of his apartment’s bedroom, stripping out of his uniform before he even made it fully inside. He cataloged the night’s injuries, all minor bruising and small cuts. It was a good night.

Not bothering to put on clothes, he went to the kitchen for a much needed dinner. Or, actually, breakfast.

He turned on the kitchen light and saw Jason lying on his table, naked but a for a strategically placed large, pink bow. A second later music started to play.

_It’s your birthday so I know you want to ride out_

_Even if we only go to my house_

_Sip more weezy as we sit upon my couch_

_Feels good but I know you want to cry out…_

“Jason.”

“Hey, baby.”

“What is this?”

“What do you think?”

_Don’t need candles and cake_

_Just need your body to make good…_

_Birthday sex_

_Birthday sex_

“Jay… It’s not my birthday.”

“Well sure it is, Timmy.”

“I think I’d know when my birthday is.”

“You’d think so, but you’d be wrong.”

“Eh, maybe you’re right, maybe it is my birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“No. It’s next week.”

_You close your eyes as I improve between your legs (your legs)_

_We work our way from kitchen stoves and tables_

“So should I go, or do you wanna fuck anyway?”

“Why not. But this doesn’t count as my birthday present.”

“Of course not! I got you something really good, baby. You’re gonna love it.”

“…”

“Um… what do you want for your birthday?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you spot the Seinfeld reference?


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim fluff by the fireplace on a cold night??"

“Y-you are _such_ an-n i-idiot.”

“I r-really don’t-t think it was _that-t_ bad.”

Tim held up his blue fingers, giving Jason an incredulous look. “Yes, it was, J-Jason. It _was_ that bad-d.”

“Whatever,” Jason grumbled. “Get b-back in here.”

He pulled Tim’s arm back into their huddle, wrapping the blanket tighter around them. Sharing body heat in their blanket burrito in front of a fire soon calmed their shivering, and it wasn’t long before they were a comfortable temperature again, although they didn’t move from their spot.

Tim scrunched up his nose. “You stink.”

“Well sorry, I didn’t have a chance to shower. You know, with the near dying from hypothermia and all.”

“It’s just, how do you smell this bad? I pulled you from a _river_. It should have rinsed you off some.”

“Yeah, a river in _Gotham_. I’m surprised I’m not dead from whatever the hell is in that water.”

“Well I don’t smell as bad as you, and I was in it too. It’s pretty gross.”

Jason grinned. “Aw, baby bird, how can you say that? You love me!”

“So?”

“So, you should love me even when I smell bad.”

“I do, that’s why I’m subjecting myself to this. But you know what? I’m done. You’re not dying anymore.” Tim started to pull away, but Jason laughed and dove onto him, pinning him.

“No! Don’t leave me! Share the stink, Tim. That’s what people in love do!” He pushed his head into the crook of Tim’s neck and tucked his arms around him as tightly as he could.

“Come on, get up, Jay,” Tim whined.

“Love me!” Jason cried into Tim’s skin, making him squirm.

“I’ll love you from over there,” Tim nodded toward the couch. “Or after you take a shower.”

“Shower?”

“Yeah. It’s this great thing where you get clean, and when you’re clean, I can stand to be near you.”

Lifting his head, Jason leered down at Tim. “Sounds good. And here’s a thought: you could join me.”

That sounded like a great idea, Tim thought. After all, he was still pretty cold. And dirty.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My soldier returns from war" with jaytim please? Like maybe a cute reunion with Tim when Jay comes back from war ?

Salt water lapped at his legs, warm and luring. The sea licked the shore, leaving behind shells and driftwood and tears.

Timothy listened. The birds in the air chided him. The waves called to him. His lover was silenced across the sea.

All of Greece had gone. The important men, anyway.

All of Timothy had gone. The important part, anyway.

He stepped further into the water, farther toward his love.

~

A horse’s hooves clapped against the cobblestones outside, different, somehow than any other horse on any other day, and Timothy _knew_. Cassandra caught his paling face and ran to the door, hoping perhaps to delay it, if only for a moment. Timothy stood and gently pushed her aside, opening the door and meeting a man with his fist raised to knock and sickened eyes.

“Timothy Drake?”

Timothy nodded. He didn’t invite the man inside for tea. The man knew he wouldn’t be invited.

The man dropped his gaze. “Richard Grayson. I served with- with Jason.”

Behind him, Cassandra gripped Timothy’s waist to keep him standing.

“He. Jason, he-” Richard’s voice crackled. His fingers twitched like he wanted to reached out and hug someone. Hug Timothy. "He saved a lot of people. Myself among them. He was good and… Jason asked me to tell you. Told me. He wanted a person rather than a letter or a rumor. I’m so sorry, Mr. Drake.“

When it became clear Timothy wouldn’t or couldn’t answer, Cassandra spoke. “Thank you, Mr. Grayson.”

“You’re welcome, miss.” And with that, Richard turned back and mounted his horse. He looked at Timothy one last time, heartbroken, and rode away.

Cassandra pulled Timothy inside and sat him down at the table, where he stayed for hours. Finally, she picked him up and took him to bed and as she laid him down he muttered, “It’s too high.”

“What is,” she asked.

“The price of freedom.”

~

_Timmy,_

_We’re in deep this time, and low on every-fucking-thing we need. General Wayne won’t say it, but you can see it in his eyes. This is it, baby. We won’t last the night. The Cap. gave us an hour to write to our families, and here I am, writing to you._

_Not much to say. I need a cigarette. It’s the little things, you know? Like right now I’m thinking about how you nibble your toast like a squirrel, but you attack a steak like a wolf. It’s the little things._

_I love you. I think maybe I never said that outright, but you knew anyway. I love you, Timmy. Right now, I’m not scared of dying. I’m scared of not seeing you again. I love you._

_I would say ‘be good’, but it’s you, so I’ll just say, please take care of yourself._

_I’m sorry, baby._

_-Jason_

~

Uncle Sam stared down at Tim, the perfect mix of disappointment and command and desperation in his features.

“I want you,” Tim read. Seemed Sam wanted everyone Tim knew, and he took them, and Tim wasn’t sure what he did with them other than now Tim was alone.

Tim screamed and was lucky that it was late and the streets were empty. He ripped the poster off the wall and tore it into shreds, crying and cursing this fucking war he didn’t understand.

He didn’t know what happened to the men who’d gone, just that they died.

In seven hours Tim would be old enough to be taken.

At least then he’d find out what happened to Jason.

~

One by one dozens of people stepped through the door, weary businessmen and happy families and none of them were who Tim was searching for. He checked the paper again, making sure he had the right flight number. Maybe they were supposed to meet at the baggage claim? Maybe they’d walked right past each other?

“Hey, baby.”

Tim whirled around and there stood a man wearing camo and boots and scars.

“Jay?” Tim’s voice was just a whisper. His feet went cold and his face went hot and it felt like he’d been waiting centuries for this moment.

“Yeah, it’s me, Tim.” Jason smiled, and he was so different, bigger and tanner and more solid but still Jason. Like always.

Tim took a small step from where he’d been frozen to the airport floor and couldn’t say anything but, _"Jay.“_

“I came home to you. For good.” Jason walked over. He still smiled but now there were tears cutting through it and Tim thought it was the most beautiful he’d ever seen Jason. “I made it, Tim, and I’m not going back. Ever. I’m done fighting.”

~

Timothy drowned swimming to Troy.

Timothy starved in his wonderful, new country.

Timmy clutched a letter in his hand as he jumped off a bridge.

Tim took a bullet to the chest and his heart died in the same jungle twice.

Tim held his soldier in an airport and promised to never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually made myself cry with this one.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim Bodyguard AU with Jay as the bodyguard plz?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what are endings?

Jason hated Timothy Drake.

Well, not so much _hated_ as _wanted to kick his ass_ , but that would be counter-productive. And he actually liked Tim as a person, most of the time, but the itch to punch his face over powered it.

After three weeks he could say, emphatically and absolutely, that Drake was the worst job he’d ever taken.

Jason was perfect for the job. Tim hadn’t wanted a stoic, old man in a suit and earpiece following him around everywhere, but his parents insisted on a bodyguard so they compromised with Jason. Jason was young and less obviously security, but he was muscled and rough and no one would go after Tim with such a friend nearby.

Jason liked the job. Essentially, he was a hired friend. He went with Tim to the movies and out to eat and to the skatepark and wherever Tim wanted to go, and Jason had a nice time. It was fun.

The problem with the job was that Tim’s favorite pastime was to play _ditch the bodyguard_ and he was winning.

Jason was trained. He was damn good at his job. Tim made a fool of him.

Tim was eerily good at sneaking away. He just melted into the shadows and was gone in an instant. Jason would turn around to look at that gorgeous kitchenware set and when he turned back he was alone in Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

He didn’t know why Tim did that. They got along fine, and Jason rarely refused to let him go somewhere. The one time he did was when Tim thought it would be a good idea to sight-seeing in the Narrows. Apparently there was some beautiful architecture there, despite the decay, and Tim got in his head to go down there with his fancy camera and capture it all. Jason looked at him like he was insane and then _told_ him he was insane and that Jason himself was _not_ insane and so they would _not_ be going to the Narrows.

Tim went anyway. Jason spent the afternoon hunting the kid down and finally found him in a tree, napping.

Otherwise, there was no reason for Tim to ditch him, but he still did. Jason would find him in a greasy diner or the back row of a bookstore and Tim would just scoot over for Jason to sit next to him, no explanation or apology, and five minutes later Tim would slip away again. Jason figured he just didn’t like the obligation of the situation.

And so Jason spent all of his time running around Gotham trying to track down a super smart master of evasion. It sucked.

“You’re gonna get me fired, kid.” Jason slid into the booth across from Tim. “And I actually need this job.”

“Sorry.” Tim shoved half a pancake in his mouth, syrup dripping down his chin.

“If you were sorry you wouldn’t do this shit.” Picking up a menu, Jason debated getting a burger or an egg sandwich. Decisions, decisions.

“I can still be sympathetic, even if it is my fault.”

“Great. Your sympathy will be such comfort when your parents fire me.”

“Get the burger.” Jason peered over the top of the menu, eyebrows raised. Tim shrugged. “You wanted one yesterday.”

A waitress came by to take Jason’s order (a cheeseburger) and top off Tim’s coffee.

“Are you _trying_ to get me canned?” Tim sipped his coffee, _not_ looking at Jason. “Because you know they’re just gonna get you someone else. The situation won’t have changed and they’ll still want someone to protect you and maybe next time you’ll have to deal with some old suit that doesn’t talk back. I mean, however much you don’t like me, I can’t be worse than that.”

Tim glanced at him quickly before demolishing the rest of his pancakes. “I know. It’s not that,” he mumbled around his food.

A plate was set on the table in front of Jason and he thanked the waitress, picking up the ketchup bottle and drowning his food in the stuff. “Then what? I can back off a little, if you want. Stay a few feet away so we’re not _together_.”

Jason thought Tim’s mouth twitched but it was hard to tell through the chewing.

“That won’t help.”

“Tell me what will.”

“Honestly?”

“Lay it on me.”

Tim swallowed the last of his food and washed it down with coffee. Jason took a huge bite of his burger and moaned a little, happy he listened to Tim.

“If you kissed me.”

Oh. _That’s_ why. He didn’t want to be around Jason because he _liked_ Jason. Tim was awkward as fuck and probably didn’t know what to do about it, so the easiest thing was just to avoid him.

Tim had grabbed a napkin and was ripping it into tiny pieces as Jason stared at him, chewing. He swallowed.

“Okay.”

Tim stilled. “...Okay?”

“Yeah, just can we do it later? I’ve got ketchup and cheese and shit all over my mouth.”

“Um.” Tim’s face went red and he couldn’t take his eyes off his hands. “Yeah. Later works. Whenever’s fine. Sure.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim headcanon that one day Jason decides to read smut out loud to annoy perfect little rich boy Tim, but it doesn’t annoy him. Tim just gets all sorts of turned on and awkward"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [cinnamonskull](http://www.cinnamonskull.tumblr.com) posted the headcanon and I just ran with it.

“Isabella felt a fire burning through her, threatening her very reason, as the servant boy pushed her into the wall. She did not fight it, and with a moan she realized she didn’t want to.”

“What are you doing?”

Looking up, Jason gave Tim his most innocent of smiles and waved the book in his hand. “Reading.”

“What are you reading?” Tim sat on the floor, cannibalized gadgets on the coffee table in front of him.

“I’m about to read about Isabella getting freaky with the servant boy. Here’s hoping the Count, her husband, doesn’t walk in.” Jason crossed his fingers.

“Do you have to read out loud?” Tim glanced up from the whatever-it-was he was building or modifying or whatever it was Tim did with stuff. "I’m trying to work here.“

"With sure hands that surprised the Countess, the boy lifted her skirts and trailed his fingers along the skin of her thigh, heat sparking in the contact and making her pant with excitement.”

“Jason, please.”

“Boy, _please_ ,” Jason moaned and the way Tim’s head snapped up was a treasure. “Please do not tease your mistress,” he read in a breathy tone.

“Jay.”

“Milady, call me Jeremy. And I do not seek to tease; I only am being selfish in my desire to take the time you deserve, to memorize your body and the noises you make. After all, Countess, I may never get this chance again.”

With a huff, Tim gathered some of his equipment and stood. Jason bit his lip to keep from laughing as he noticed the red on Tim’s cheeks as he walked away, Jason calling after him, “ _Oh, Jeremy_! Take me!”

Jason threw himself over the back of the couch. Tim was walking (a touch too quickly) to the main stairs and Jason caught up to him as Tim ascended the first step.

“ _Take me_ , boy, before the Count returns. Give me this night, one night of pleasure to look back upon,” Jason read passionately as he followed Tim up the steps. At the half way mark, Jason gasped, “Here, and _now!”_

Tim stopped abruptly and turned around, Jason nearly running into him since he was looking down at the book. “Why are you doing this,” Tim asked and Jason thought there was something in that question other than curiosity or frustration. Something like misery.

“I.” It was funny. That was why. Tim, all flustered and uncomfortable, was entertaining. And yet Jason couldn’t say it because. Well, that wasn’t all it was. “You want me to stop? We’re getting to the good part.”

They stood two steps away and at that position, they were the same height. Tim didn’t answer.

Slowly, Jason moved up to the next step. “My wish, dear Isabella, is to leave you memories to last this and every night. Every time you are left cold and alone in your bed, you will think of me, of my hands and lips on you.”

Tim stepped back, Jason forward, and the two walked up the staircase, facing each other with only a few inches between them. When Tim hit the landing he kept going, across the hall, until his back hit the far wall. Jason stood in front of him and held up the book so he could glance easily between it and Tim’s face.

“Isabella slid her hands along the wall behind her, cold and rough at contrast to the body pressing against her.”

From the corner of his eye, Jason watched Tim’s hand flatten, fingers twitching barely on the textured paint of the hallway wall.

“Gripping her hips, Jeremy lifted her weight easily as Isabella wrapped her legs around him. He leaned in so that his bare chest touched hers, letting no more space divide them.”

Jason carefully leaned closer to Tim, bringing the arm that wasn’t holding the book up to brace against the wall by his head and Tim let him. He searched Tim’s face for revulsion, horror, _something_ , but what he saw was hopeful in a way that made Jason’s insides get all scrambled up and he fought for an even voice.

“Jeremy licked at the skin of her neck, making her cry out happily when he bit down.”

Far more tentatively than Jeremy had, Jason brought his lips to Tim’s neck and kissed him lightly.

“And then what happened?” Tim’s words were so soft that only someone as close as Jason was could have heard them.

Jason dropped the book. “Let’s find out.“


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's no love for me"

Jason threw himself down on the rock ledge petulantly since there was no one to see him. He crossed his arms, pouted, and even made a frustrated whine-y noise. He really went all out with it.

The little cave was dark and cool. Where he sat was smooth and surprisingly comfortable for a slab of stone. The little hideaway was one of the hundreds of caves in the system underneath the manor. Jason had found this particular nook is his Robin days, when he’d needed to sneak away for a smoke or just for some quiet. The manor was quiet but it was the wrong kind of silence. It was a mourning silence. It was intentional. The caves were quiet simply because they were empty, and even then there was the distant sound of bats’ screeches and wings flapping.

And footsteps.

Jason lied down, stretching out over the ledge, and closed his eyes, listening to someone walking closer and closer, most of him willing them to pass by him, a small part of him hoping for them to find him. The footsteps stopped in the mouth of his cave.

“Is this where you always go when you run away?”

“Fuck off, Replacement.”

Tim stepped inside. “Answer the question so I can win the bet. Dick was sure it was the attic.”

“How much?”

“Weapons and equipment maintenance for two weeks and one _cover my patrol at the last minute_ card.”

Jason finally opened his eyes and saw Tim standing over him, flashlight in hand. He looked pointedly at the lack of space available to him and Jason rolled his eyes, sitting up so there was room for Tim to sit next to him, which he did.

“Did Bruce send you to hunt me down?”

“Did you want him to?”

“No.” _Yes._

Tim played with the flashlight, drawing on the wall opposite with the beam. “So what happened?”

“Pork chops were dry.”

“Makes sense. It’s a good thing you weren’t here for the shrimp last Sunday night. Stringy as hell. Shudder to think what you would have done.”

Jason watched the light, trying to figure out what it was Tim drew with it. Probably case notes. They sat silently for a long while. Tim was warm and their arms brushed whenever he moved. Jason had room to scoot over so that they wouldn’t touch. He didn’t.

“There’s no love for me here,” Jason said, and while he whispered it, the words bounced around the room and came back to him louder than he liked.

The flashlight stilled. Tim set it between his legs, pointing up. He shifted, turning toward Jason, and stared at him intently for moment before he said, “You’re an idiot.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And Damian is a brat. This is a fun game.”

“You started it.”

“What I said, you apparently didn’t know. Because you’re an idiot.”

“Is this your way of convincing me I’m wanted? You suck at it.”

Tim shook his head, still looking at Jason in a way that didn’t let Jason break eye contact. “I can’t convince you Bruce wants or loves you or even that the sky is blue if you get into your head it’s yellow.”

“We’re in Gotham, Tim. The sky _is_ yellow.”

“Okay, bad example. But me telling you how much Bruce loves you isn’t going to do anything.”

“So what are you trying to do?”

With a strange determination, Tim reached up, cupping Jason’s cheeks in his hands and stared him down hard. “You _are_ loved, Jay.”

“I thought you said-”

“Yeah, I know what I said. Do you?”


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "imagine civilian!tim dating red hood!jason like they knew each other before he died. tim was his bf before, and like alfred he's only ever been good to jay so when he's back he goes looking for tim and tim knows its him right away & still loves him so he kind of serves as jason's stability & jay still loves him more than anything in the world. bruce knew abt jaytim dating as kids and he finds out the red hood was spotted in a certain area and after some more digging he realizes that the neighborhood is where tim drake lives and so he goes to tim during the day (where jason wouldnt really be able to do much) but tim won’t talk to him (bc jason would react badly probably) so he returns as batman and hood shows up halfway into tim & batman’s tense talk (lol bats showed through the window or smth) and jason is furious as fuck"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really a drabble, like actual writing, but I loved it and wanted to post it here.

Little Robin!Jason catching a kid following him on patrol one night. The kid is so wonderstruck because _you’re **Robin!**_ Jason loves having this kid fawning over him, he’s never had people be so impressed by him. He runs into the kid again the next night (he was looking for him) and this time the kid brought a candy bar for him because _you must be hungry, right? Running all over the city and beating up bad guys_ and he punches the air a few times, which makes Jason laugh and correct his form while eating the chocolate. The third time he gets the kid’s name and can’t help but smile when he says, “See you later, Tim,” before swinging away to catch up with Bruce.

The next few months they meet up along Jason’s patrol route and sometimes Tim will bring Jason something to eat or a thermos of hot chocolate when it's really cold out. Jason will bring Tim souvenirs from different bad guys he fought; Penguin’s eyeglass or a flower from Poison Ivy’s garden ( _don’t worry, I tested it, it’s safe. I wouldn’t ever let something bad happen to you, Timmy_ ).

One night Tim accidently calls him _Jason_ , and Jason hadn’t told him his name yet… So Tim explains that he’s known the whole time, and how he figured it out. Jason is ecstatic because now they get to see each other during the day, as himself. They go to movies and the arcade and it's Jason’s first real friend. Then Tim kisses him and it’s his first kiss and his first boyfriend.

Then Jason dies.

Tim sees how Batman is tearing himself up over Jason’s death and he knows he has to help. He’s carrying the same pain and he knows Bruce will destroy himself and Gotham. Tim goes to ask Dick to help Bruce, but Dick can’t be Robin again. Bruce is falling into Two-Face’s trap, and Dick along with him, and Tim needs to do _something_. Alfred offers him the Robin suit and for the smallest moment he considers it, because _Batman needs a Robin_ , but he can’t. The thought of wearing _Jason’s suit_ makes him sick. Tim helps Batman and Nightwing but as just some kid with a mask on.

He doesn’t help again after that. He can’t replace Jason. He can't fill that void for Bruce. He can't even stand to be in the manor.

Tim goes on with his life. His mother dies, his father is paralyzed. He visits Jason’s grave in the middle of the night and leaves candy bars.

When Jason digs himself out and is starving, the first thing he eats is a Snickers bar that had been placed on top of his headstone.

The first thing Jason does when he comes back to Gotham is find Tim. He sneaks into Tim’s apartment and Tim’s on the couch watching a movie. Jason just watches him from the shadows for a few minutes, taking in how much he’s grown and how beautiful he is. Tim gets up to walk to the kitchen and Jason follows, and when Tim turns around from getting soda from the fridge and sees Jason, he immediately swings a punch that would have knocked him on his ass if he hadn’t been trained. Jason dodges and says, “Damn, Timmy. I taught you good.”

Tim freezes, blinks, squints, really looks at the guy in his kitchen. It hits him hard, his face going pale and slack, he drops the can and whispers, “ _Jason?”_

They spend the night wrapped up on the couch together, Tim practically in his lap as Jason tells him what happened.

They fall in love all over again, (not that either of them ever fell out of it) harder and deeper because now they’re old enough to really give themselves to each other. When Jason struggles with his anger, or the way the pit is still fucking with his head, Tim is there. Tim keeps him grounded. Tim reminds him he’s real and he’s _good_. Tim knew him before, as Robin and as Jason, and he knows him after, as Red Hood and as Jason, and he still loves him. Tim knows him in every way and still loves him. Tim proves he’s worthy of love.

One day Tim gets mugged. He fought back but there were four thugs against just one Tim, and he got beat pretty badly. That night Red Hood finds the men that attacked Tim. By the next morning the whole underbelly of Gotham knows not to mess with Tim Drake.

The area around Tim’s apartment and school becomes a common place to spot Red Hood.

Bruce notices.

He’d periodically checked up on Tim over the years. Not in person, Tim wanted to a keep a distance from Batman and he respected that, but he made sure the boy was okay. He watched Tim never get close to anyone else. He saw that Tim still loved Jason. So when Red Hood stakes a claim on Tim, it makes all of those hints and clues slide into place and he realizes Red Hood is Jason. It’s impossible, Jason _died._ But what is even more impossible is Tim loving someone else.

Bruce sits down at Tim’s table in the little coffee shop he goes to every day and Tim nods politely.

“Bruce.”

“Tim.”

Tim sips his latte.

“I want to talk about-”

“No,” he interrupts. “It’s not my place. I’m sorry, Bruce.”

Bruce understands. He pats Tim’s shoulder and leaves.

And the thing is, Bruce understands. But Batman is angry and hurt and _needs to know_ what’s going on.

Batman slips into Tim’s apartment. He saw the wires on the window and tripped them anyway. Red Hood should arrive in three minutes.

“I told you, I’m not going to talk about it,” Tim says from the couch. Batman doesn’t respond and after a moment Tim nods because _Oh. Okay,_ he knows what this is.

Jason flies through the door, guns already out and trained on Bruce before he even registers who it is. When he does the guns don’t lower. “Get out,” he growls. “If you want me that’s fine; we’ll do this, old man. But you _don’t_ drag _Tim_ into it. Now _get the fuck out_.”

Batman stands where he is long enough for Jason’s finger to twitch dangerously on the trigger before he slips out the window. Jason stays in attack position until Tim gently pulls his arms down. He grabs his face and forces Jason to meet his eyes.

“You’ll be okay,” Tim whispers, “I’m here. I’ll be right here,” and kisses him.

It’s enough for Jason to go and meet Bruce, to do all of this that he’d been putting off. It’s going to be nasty. It’ll hurt like hell.

But Jason’s been through hell before.

And Tim will be there on the other side again.


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Highschool tutoring au with jaytim oh goodness. The sessions probably always end with Tim pushed against a bookcase at the back of the library and his leg hiked up around Jason's hip and jay's hands groping tim's ass"

Jason was there to study. Honestly. Tim, it seemed, was not. As evidenced by the way he brushed their notes to the floor as he sat himself on the table in front of Jason, swinging his legs to either side of Jay’s and grabbing his face to kiss him full on the lips.

Pulling back, Jason sucked in a breath and said, “Dammit, Tim, really? Here?”

Tim ran his thumb along Jason’s bottom lip. “You stick your tongue out a little when you’re concentrating. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t. But seriously, we need to-”

“It’s sexy.”

“Shh!” Jason looked around to see if anyone had heard. They were alone in that back section of the library however. He hoped no one came by, especially someone that worked there. It would be just his luck for Barbara to find them. “You know what’s sexy?”

“You,” Tim answered immediately.

“Getting good grades.” Jason swatted Tim’s hands away, only for them drift down onto his chest and knead into the muscle there. “We need to study.”

“I don’t want to. I want to make out.”

Jason grabbed Tim’s wrists and pulled them away from him. “Well tough shit. I want to get an A on this computer science test. Which is the whole reason I asked you to help me. So help me, computer nerd.”

Tim grinned. With his arms pinned, he slipped off a shoe and brought up his foot, running it up Jason’s thigh. “I like it when you call me names, baby.”

Jason scoffed, trying not to look affected by the toes straying dangerously close to his dick. “ _Computer nerd_ gets you hot and heavy? I can’t imagine what you’d do if I actually talked dirty to you.”

“Let’s find out.” The look Tim gave him told Jason that, despite his best efforts, he would not be studying in the near future. “Wanna go to the classic lit. isle? I know how you like Austen.”

“Yeah, to read. Not to get freaky next to.” Jason would never make out on _Pride and Prejudice._

Tim noticed that Jason didn’t actually refuse the kissing part. His grin turned salacious. “Allright. We can stay here.” He slid forward off the table, settling himself onto Jason’s lap. “Now, what about that dirty talk?”


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want to be alone"

Tim twirled around in his desk chair, kicking off the hard-wood floor of his bedroom with socked feet and spinning in circles, waiting for the page to load. Bit by bit it formed, text at the top and ads on the sides and a grey square in the middle where the video should play. Soon.

While he waited Tim pulled out his phone. He had a text from Dick about going out to eat later, since they hadn’t been able to hang out in a while and how was he doing? Tim answered that he was busy tonight, maybe next week, and he glanced up to see the video loaded and ready so he set down the phone and slid into place in front of the screen.

With a final check- door locked, headphones plugged in, lotion waiting- and a little flutter in his stomach (he always, still, got nervous) he clicked the triangle above the word ‘play’.

~

Jason knocked.

No reply.

He tried the handle to find the door locked.

Usually Jason would leave at this point. Wait for later, send a text if it was important. But he didn’t feel like it. He felt… bad. Sad? Empty.

 _I don’t want to be alone_ , he thought.

He needed to be around someone, and this was his best option.

Dick was too much. Even when he wasn’t talking, he was moving, he was loud, he was _there_. Damian was too sharp and Bruce was dark and no one else in this house was what Jason needed right now. He wanted to just sit in the same room with someone, but be ignored, but by a person that acknowledged him, but was quiet. But not too quiet.

Jason, though he would never admit it aloud and could hardly stand to admit it internally, needed to be around Tim.

And so Jason decided to pick the lock on Tim’s door because he was an asshole and also maybe craved the kid’s company so much it pissed him off enough to fuck privacy rights. He made quick work of the lock and soon was pushing the door open, traipsing into the Replacement’s bedroom.

Tim sat at his desk watching something on his laptop, and when his eyes flickered away from the screen to land on Jason, he looked so instantly horrified that Jason checked behind him, sure there was a monster or super villain slipping in after him. There wasn’t, and that meant Tim was horrified about Jason, and that only hurt a little more than he thought it should.

Tim shot up out of his chair and the cord of his headphones popped out of the computer and a breathy moan filled the air.

“What the-” Jason stopped as another sound rang out, a sharp gasp and an answering grunt, both deep voices.

Tim leapt forward and snapped shut the lid of the laptop, looking relieved until a “ _Fuck,_ yes baby,” sang form the thing, whatever he was watching still playing. With a face of panic that Jason had never seen on the kid before, Tim grabbed the computer and threw it- honest to fuck threw the thing- out the open window.

They stood in silence for a moment, Tim seemingly frozen in place and turning so red Jason started to worry. Then he visibly, forcibly snapped himself out of it and asked, “What are you doing here, Jason?”

“I uh. You want to hang out?”

“Do I want to… Hang out,” Tim echoed, no small amount of disbelief coating the words. His voiced was strained, obviously trying not to shout, “No, Jay. Now isn’t really a good time. And you should have maybe known that by the _locked door_.”

“Right, right, right, well sure. Can I say one thing, though?”

“No! Get the fuck out,” Tim snapped.

With a mocking bow, Jason turned to leave. In the hall he smiled to himself as he thought about the fact that just under Tim’s window was the courtyard where Jason knew Bruce to be currently enjoying lunch. Or, maybe not enjoying so much any longer, what with his son’s laptop sitting in the grass nearby and the noises coming from it.

Jason whistled as he shuffled down the hall and he was still a little lonely, but he was also too amused to give much of a fuck about that.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You... you used me."

“Hey, sweetie. Did you get the carrots yet?”

Jason looked up from the tomatoes he was inspecting, startled to find that voice directed at himself and coming from a guy leaning against his cart casually. He took a moment to glance around, but there wasn’t anyone else he could have been talking to. There were several people sorting through the produce around them, a few middle-aged women and a big family and an older guy, but all of them too far way to be the target.

“Wha-”

“Oh, you did,” the guy said, motioning toward the bunch of carrots in Jason's grocery cart. He smiled up at Jason, sweet and warm, and Jason couldn’t actually remember being looked at like that in a long damn while.

“Yeah,” he said distantly. “Carrots.“

Smiling wider, the guy leaned forward (and up, he was kinda short) and planted a soft kiss on Jason’s cheek. “Great. You know that sauce your mom was talking about? They have it here, I just saw it two isles over. We should get some so she stops calling me about it.”

“Okay.” Jason didn’t know why he was agreeing, not asking the guy who the hell he was or if he was suffering from a concussion. Maybe it was the vaguely pleading look in his eyes or, more likely and more pathetically, it was due to how nice it was to stand in the grocery store with someone, to talk about carrots and sauce and mothers and get kissed on the cheek.

The stranger glanced behind him and sighed, tension that Jason hadn’t noticed vanishing from his body. “Whew, okay, I’m sorry about that,” he said, turning back to Jason.

“What?”

“There was this man,” he said, motioning behind him to now empty space. Jason thought back to who was standing there just a moment ago: the older man, with gray hair, the parts by his temples completely white and a steely, crazed look in his eyes. “He was following me.”

Jason glanced down at where his forearm was warm from the hand being rested on it, but as soon as he did the guy retracted his hand, muttering another apology. “You… you used me,” Jason said.

“Yeah. You looked- I mean, you have the right aura. You’re intimidating.”

“I’ve been told that.”

“And, well,” the guy frowned, “I’m not. I tried glaring at him, but it didn’t work. So I figured you might scare him off. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jason assured him. “It was.” _Nice_. "Fine.“

He smiled up at Jason again. “Okay, good. Thanks…”

“Jason.”

“Thank you, Jason,” the guy said and he turned around to walk away and Jason’s cheek tingled.

“Wait!”

He stopped and looked back and Jason bruised the tomatoes he held too tightly.

“I um. I actually do need some good pasta sauce, if you know any?”

And there was that smile again, warm but sharper this time and Jason liked it even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The old guy is Ra's, btw.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ""This might sting a little," Tim says, slowly pulling aside Red Hood's torn shirt to expose the cut bleeding underneath the jut of his collarbone. He's proud of how steady he keeps his hands and his voice, even though he can't see the other man's expression beneath the hood. Still, the weight of his eyes beneath burn all up Tim's hands and arms, zinging right through to his ribs."

“This might sting a little,” Tim says, slowly pulling aside Red Hood’s torn shirt to expose the cut bleeding underneath the jut of his collarbone. He’s proud of how steady he keeps his hands and his voice, even though he can’t see the other man’s expression beneath the hood. Still, the weight of his eyes beneath burn all up Tim’s hands and arms, zinging right through to his ribs.

“It stung a little when you sliced me.” The answer sounds warped, metallic vibrations filtering through the mask, not as heavy as Tim expected. The man sounds exasperated, tilting almost to playful. Tim leans in to inspect the cut, close enough that his breath fogs the mask and leaves visible evidence that his breathing is shaking just slightly, and Tim is grateful Hood can’t see it or feel it and hopes he can’t hear Tim’s nervousness. Tim flinches when the voice comes again, so close to his ear. “You should sharpen that blade. If it hurts like that, it’s too dull.”

Tim pulls back and steps to the side, opens a cabinet and grabs his first aid kit. “It was your knife,” he counters as he open the box.

“Really?” And Red Hood sounds genuinely surprised as he reaches out to take the blade sitting on the kitchen table. He looks down at it and then huffs. “Hm. Look at that, it is mine. But you know, kid, you should always clean a knife right away,” he says, shaking the thing at Tim accusatorily before wiping it on his pants, swiping the flat of the blade along his thigh and smearing his own blood into the fabric. When he’s gotten it shiny as new, he slides it into the holster in his right boot. “Blood will damage the metal if you leave it on too long.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next time some masked stranger breaks into my apartment.” Tim says it with sarcasm but then realizes this is Gotham and he really should file away the details of this experience for a possible next time. He pours disinfectant on a square of gauze and approaches Red Hood, who tilts his head to the side, leaving open space for Tim to reach the wound. He cleans it and part of him is impressed with how the man doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t twitch at all even though it must be painful. Another part is saddened by how much pain this man must have experienced in his life to be so unaffected by it. 

“How the hell did you get one of my knifes without me noticing?”

“I think you were trying not to hurt me too badly. There’s a lesson in there somewhere.” Finished with the disinfectant, Tim retracts the gauze and blows gently on the cut before he can think that maybe that’s a weird thing to do. To a scary masked stranger. But then Red Hood stiffens like he hadn’t done at the pain and Tim allows himself a moment to be cocky and blows again. “So, stitches?”

Hood makes a sound like he’s trying to clear his throat quietly and nods. “If that’s something you can do.”

“Sure,” Tim answers lightly as he stands, moving back to the first aid kit and pulling out a needle and thread. “It’s easy. I was a boy scout, you know.” 

That seems to relax the man’s shoulders a fraction as Tim slides into position over him, readying his needle. “You were?”

“No,” Tim says as he pierces Red Hood’s chest. “They didn’t give out merit badges for video game mastery.” 

Low laughter drifts out from the helmet, stirring up what’s been twisting around in Tim’s stomach since the moment he came home, opened the door to a gun in his face and questions growled at him that he honestly and truly didn’t know the answer to. That thing had started as basic, icy fear and then went hot when Tim saw a break in the man’s concentration and took the chance, lunging at him and slapping the gun away to slide under his couch. It was adrenaline and something excited Tim didn’t know he had when he slipped the knife out of the man’s boot and took a few rough punches to the legs and back. He’d slashed out and it was probably far more luck than skill that had him actually catch cloth and skin, red seeping out in a moment and Red Hood had stilled, helmet tilted down to look at it before laughter broke the tension and tightened that thing in Tim. The same laughter now has Tim biting his lip and willing his hands not to shake again. 

“You ever done this before?”

“No. But I always wanted to,” a fact Tim hadn’t been aware of until this minute. Like how he loved taking a hit and wielding a blade and contact and voracity. 

“Glad I could make your dreams come true. Hopefully it makes up for the whole ‘wrongly accusing and nearly torturing information out of you’ thing?”

“Almost,” Tim breathes, but really it more than covered it. “You could do one more thing for me though.”

“What’s that, kid?”

Tim reaches the end of the cut and ties off the thread. He leans down to grab the knife from Hood’s holster and uses it to cut the string. Straightening, Tim turns the knife over in his hands, fingers caressing the hilt. “Teach me how to sharpen it?”


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ""So what?" Tim responds, leaning across the space between them and watching the way a muscle in Jason's jaw jumps to life. "Didn't realize you were the big, bad wolf in town.""

Tim sits atop a gargoyle, petting the stone head of the beast as he waits. Wind pulls at his cape and he tightens his thighs around his perch. It's quite a drop to the grimy street below. It isn’t long before the smell of leather and gun oil reaches him, along with a rough greeting that Tim hopes isn’t more bark than bite. He’s looking for a strong bite. 

“Replacement.”

Tim keeps watching the street for a moment before turning around, shifting his body to straddle the gargoyle in reverse. Jason is crouched at the edge of the building, close enough for Tim to see he needs to shave. 

“Growing out your beard?”

Jason ignores the question. “This is my territory, Little Red.”

“So what?” Tim responds, leaning across the space between them and watching the way a muscle in Jason’s jaw jumps to life. “Didn’t realize you were the big, bad wolf in town.”

“Well, I do have the teeth for it. Wanna see?” 

Tim is used to this, of Jason throwing out these quips and salacious smiles, but it’s always a joke to him. Like he thinks that’s all it could ever be and it’s safe to flirt when it’ll just be disregarded. Tim usually would shrug it off, exactly as he always does, exactly as Jason expects him to do, so it startles Jason when this time Tim reacts. 

Jason is still as Tim slips his thumb between Jason’s lips, the leather of his glove sliding in easily and pressing against his teeth. “Oh my, how sharp. Do you know how to use them, I wonder?” 

The question hangs in the Gotham skyline, as loud as the city below. Just when Tim is ready to withdraw his hand, Jason’s lips wrap around the gloved finger. He swallows, the slightest hesitation before biting down. 

“Good boy.” Tim grins, stroking Jason’s jaw with his free fingers. The pressure on his thumb increases just to the point of pain and then holds. “Come on, then. Let’s go get lost in the woods.”


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: "Oh... don't cry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: idiots and awkward sex ahead.

“Oh… don’t cry. What’s wrong? Why would- shit!” Tim’s face twisted into something horrified as he gripped Jason’s hips, fingers twitching nervously.

“ _Tim_ ,” Jason gasped, a mix of laughter and pleasure and embarrassment. “Stop.”

Tim froze, despite every cell in his body screaming at him to _move now_ , even just a _millimeter._ But he couldn’t, not with the tears trailing down Jason’s temple. He _couldn’t._

“I didn’t mean stop _that,_ I meant stop _talking_. You’re freaking out.”

“Of course I’m freaking out, Jason! My dick is in your ass and you’re _crying!”_

Rolling his eyes, Jason shifted, encouraging Tim to move again, but he stayed still, looking petrified. “It’s fine,” Jason assured him, cheeks flushed and chest heaving.

“It’s not, how can it be fine if you’re crying?”

“I’m not- it was like, two tears and they were happy tears, okay?” Jason rocked his hips up, surprised at himself, at how much he wanted Tim to _move now,_ even just a _millimeter_. But he didn’t, and Jason felt frustration like he’d never known. “Seriously, baby, it’s okay. I’m not in pain and- just. Keep going.”

“I…” Tim looked away guiltily. “I don’t think I can.”

Jason nearly growled, but cleared his throat and made his voice somewhat gentle before saying, “Tim, I promise you’re not doing anything wrong. In fact, you were doing it really, _really_ right. It was amazing, so amazing I started crying at how good it felt, so…” He sucked in a deep, shaky breath. "I really need you to keep fucking me.“

Tim had slid his gaze back up to Jason, awed. This wasn’t the first time they had had sex, but it was the first time Jason had ever said… anything like _that_. Tim glanced away again. “I meant, I can’t because I’m not hard anymore.”

“Oh.” Jason focused and realized that yeah, there was a lack of pressure _there_. He felt like crying again. "Oh.“

"Yeah, seeing you, like that.. it uh, freaked me out.”

Jason nodded, wanting very badly lower his legs and run away and punch something repeatedly.

“But we can try again later,” Tim said hopefully as he pulled back, slipping out of Jason, who immediately sat up and scooted away. Tim sighed. Jason clearly was embarrassed and he didn’t know what to say.

Slowly, like he would a wary cat, Tim moved forward across the bed and leaned in to kiss Jason’s downturned lips. He didn’t get a reaction so he did it again, more forcefully, and again, with a flick of his tongue, until Jason finally opened up to him. They kissed, warm, tentative things that turned wet and affectionate. Hands trailed along skin, exploring like they hadn’t just been touching, like it was new and wonderful territory.

Jason’s hand slid down and grabbed Tim. He broke their kiss and said lowly, breathlessly, _gratefully_ , “It’s later.”


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "theatre kid!au where jay is an actor and Tim is a techie who is teching the show jay is staring in and there's quick changes and it's tim's job to help jay into costumes so tim sees him naked a lot & ends up falling in love"

Jason is stunning onstage. His energy and passion draw in every eye, and would even if he were playing a tree. His presence demands attention. Mr. Wayne was wise to give him the lead; he’d steal the show in any other role.

Off stage left, Tim watches the show. He treasures this angle, this view that very few get to experience. The actors aren’t facing him usually, but he sees things the audience will miss, like how Jason sometimes taps his thigh, a special beat for his lines, to get the timing just right.

He sees other things, too. Like, well. Jason’s ass. He has a wonderful view of that.

“What are men but mere men,” cries Jason as Cyrano. “Tonight, give me giants! Let’s go!”

And then Jason is turning (taking away Tim’s nice view) and marching offstage, right toward Tim and Tim nearly slaps himself. He has everything ready except his own mentality. In a rush of heavy breathing and the tang of sweat, Jason is standing there, waiting for Tim to get his shit together and start doing his job.

Right. His job.

Tim leaps forward and begins ripping off Jason’s clothes.

He loves his job.

With quick fingers (bigger than Tim’s), Jason helps, unbuttoning the shirt and unlacing the pants. Together they slide off the costume and in any other situation, without this specific context, it would appear overtly sexual. All that’s missing is steamy kisses peppered throughout the process and for Jason to be reaching out for Tim’s clothes, too- and fuck, that’s not a safe place for Tim’s mind to be drifting.

Soon Jason is stripped down to his underwear and Tim tries to take in as much as he can as subtly as he can, but he only gets a moment before he’s forced to start dressing Jay in the new costume.

“Shit,” Jason mutters as he slips his arm into the jacket. “I messed up.”

Tim kicks away the old pants and drops down, holding out the new pair for Jason to step into, carefully not thinking about the placement of… everything and what else he could be doing in that position. “You did?”

“I didn’t punch ‘giants’ hard enough,” he complains and rests a hand on Tim’s shoulder for balance as he shoves his feet into the pant legs. Tim tugs the waist up and Jason takes it from him to fasten the buttons.

“It sounded great to me, and I’ve seen you shout that line a hundred times. If I didn’t notice, no one else did either.”

“I’m sure the big man did.” Jason glances toward the audience where Bruce is seated in the front, watching intently.

Against all instincts, against the voice (of Bruce) in his head yelling, _faster, faster! I don’t care if you’re suddenly hit by a falling spotlight, get it done even faster than last time!_ Tim pauses, catches Jay’s attention. “Hey. It was good, okay? Amazing. And the rest of the show will be fantastic. It’s your acting.”

For a moment, Tim can’t hear a thing, not the bustle around them, not the lines Dick is reciting onstage, not his own heart beating madly. He is entirely focused on Jason’s face, the insecurity in his eyes and then the soft smile breaking like pale light through clouds after a storm.

Tim wonders when he got poetical.

And then Barbara saunters over, clipboard in hand, looking ready fight an army barehanded. She peers at Jason’s bare feet and turns her look onto Tim, who snatches up the proper shoes.

“Got it,” he says before she can lay into him. He kneels again and helps Jason slips them on, his brain making a stupid connection to Cinderella. "We’re ready!“

Barbara nods and turns to check on the lighting. “You have eight seconds, Cyrano.”

Tim gives Jason a once over. “How’s the nose holding up?”

“If I sneeze, we’re fucked.”

“Then don’t sneeze,” Tim says. Jason reaches up to feel the fake nose, _again_ , so Tim swats his hand away. "And stop fiddling with it!“

Jason sweeps a hand down his outfit and juts out his chin, displaying his changed face. "So, how do I look?”

 _Beautiful,_ Tim thinks. _Even with that nose_. What he says is, “Hideous.”

“Perfect.” Jason grins and Tim can see how excited he is, ready and proud.


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim zombie apocalypse!au ??"

“Hey, guys, come on. I’m one of you!”

Jason backs up, pulling out his guns.

“I mean, maybe a little more put together. I have like, a face still.”

He aims.

“But we’re brothers, yeah? The undead gotta look out for each other.”

The things that were once people don’t stop their advance, not swayed by his argument. He sighs.

“Fine, then. Be that way.”

Jason shoots, over and over, each bullet hitting a skull and sending rotting brain matter flying.

When everything has stopped moving, Jason holsters one gun and reaches in his pack for a box of ammunition. He slips out the magazine and starts to reload, pressing in each shell with his thumb and it would leave a fingerprint if he didn’t wear gloves. _That’s why you always wear gloves_ , he thinks. Of course, that’s a bit of a moot action now, in this world where no one is looking for fingerprints. Certainly not on the bullets used against _those things_. But it’s a habit, the gloves.

“You know, for a while I wondered,” Tim says, popping up beside Jason. He’d probably been trying to startle him, but Jason sensed he was there, that way you sense your own arm next to you.

“About what?” Finished with the first, Jason trades out for the other gun and starts the process again.

Tim leans down and wipes off some unmentionable substance from his boot tops. “If you would attract them.”

“We were together in the first attack, Tim. You saw them come after me.”

“I meant earlier. Before that, I used to think about it, if it ever happened, would they want you.”

“Are you serious?” Jason puts away his gear. “You thought about this happening?”

“Of course,” Tim answers easily, straightening up. "Gotta be prepared.“

Jason rolls his eyes. “Of course,” he echoes.

“Hey. If you’ll remember, it was my preparedness that saved your ass. Don’t mock The Plan.”

Jason throws up his hands, placating. “Sorry. So, were you surprised?”

“No. You have warm, flowing blood and, aside from the scars, no indication that you ever died. All the tests we’ve ever run came back normal, so."

"What a rip-off. I can’t even pass as a zombie? Sometimes I think I died for nothing.”


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "can we have some affectionate jaytim?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you seen the end of season one of Gilmore Girls where Max sends Lorelei a thousand daisies?  
> This is titled, “Gilmore Girls Lied to Me”.

Looking over the thousand (exactly one thousand) red tulips filling the apartment, Jason thinks to himself, _this may have been too much_. But he had gotten the idea from a tv show, and it had worked out pretty well there. And why wouldn’t it? This was romantic as hell. Right?

He looks back at Tim and thinks, _it was too much. Gilmore Girls lied to me_. He feels quite betrayed. Now where is he supposed to get wooing advice?

Tim is frozen just inside the doorway, staring at the flowers (red, because of Red Robin and red tulips mean ‘declaration of love’ in flower language. It took Jason a while to find just the right kind of flower) filling up every square inch of his home, in vases on tables and chairs and the floor. His face is doing something Jason hasn’t seen before and that is pretty unnerving. Jason had expected a different sort of reaction, smiling and laughing and maybe some kisses. Not… whatever this is.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Jason coughs and tries, “I uh. Also made dinner. Chimichangas.”

Finally, Tim blinks and says, “What the hell?”

“You don’t like chimichangas?”

“Jason, what the hell! What is this?”

Jason tries not to fidget too much, but it doesn’t matter anyway because Tim still has not torn his eyes away from the tulips. With a low voice, almost hoping Tim won’t hear him because this is not going well and Tim _hates_ it and Jason was so _stupid, damn it all_ , he says, “A declaration of love?”

That makes Tim’s eyebrows scrunch up and at last he looks at Jason. “What? Wait, so… are you not fucking with me?”

“Fucking wi- no!” Now Jason is confused, and a little hurt. Tim must see that because he relaxes slightly and takes a small step forward.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought- So this is… wow. Okay.”

“You thought this was like, a prank?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, there was that one time you filled up the Red Bird with water balloons and it took an hour for me to get them out because I had to be super careful so they wouldn’t pop.”

Oh. Jason had forgotten about that. He hides a fond smile at the memory, because that had been fucking hilarious. Tim glares a little, so maybe he didn’t completely hide it. "But this is different,“ he insists. “It’s flowers! It’s obviously a sweet gesture.”

“Yeah, but-” Tim clamps his mouth shut and looks away. “You’re right, this is sweet.”

“No, what was that? But what?”

“…The thing is, what am I supposed to do with all if these?” Tim waves his hand around, encompassing the thousand bright red tulips. “I can’t live like this. I can’t sit on my couch, or even walk over to the coat closet. And what about when they start shedding? I’ll have six thousand flower petals to sweep up.”

Jason lowers his eyes to the floor and shuffles his feet. “I didn’t think about that,” he says softly.

“It is sweet.” Tim’s voice is much closer now and Jason glances up to find him walking over, a small smile in place. It’s much better than the face he’d been sporting earlier. Now standing in front of Jason, Tim asks, "Just, _why?“_

“I was trying to, I don’t know. You’re so…” caring and loving and always doing random shit that makes his day, like finding that one song Jason had hummed, the one his mother used to sing and he’d forgotten the lyrics, or swinging by in the middle of patrol just to give him a quick kiss and remind him to stay safe. “I wanted…”

Tim is staring up at him, smiling wider now. “Okay,” is all he says, and he pulls on Jason’s shirt to tug him down and kiss him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. But you’re the one cleaning it up.”

“Fair.”

“So, chimichangas? Did I hear that right?"

Jason nods and Tim looks so fucking happy about the chimichangas, far happier than he was about the tulips, and Jason figures next time he wants to do something nice he’ll just get food. Maybe he’ll buy a thousand bags of potato chips.


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell me about when it snows in Gotham. About lazy, cozy mornings spent curled together under thick blankets, watching the way giant flakes stick against the windowpane. Another year is drawing to an end, but something else is blossoming, more beautiful and delicate than the petals of any winter rose. Is it the feel of Tim's lips against Jason's fingertips? The soft patch of skin behind Jason's neck that makes his toes curl?"

Jason made delicious hot chocolate and Tim was falling in love.

With the cocoa, of course.

He sipped it gingerly, not patient enough to wait for it to cool, and licked the foam off his lips. It was _so good_ , maybe even better than Alfred’s (gasp!). That’s likely where he learned to make it. From the couch he watched Jason shuffling around in the kitchen, wearing that Christmas sweater Tim had bought him.

He’d gotten it as a joke, walking around a second-hand shop (searching for a jacket with blood still on it; the guy he was building a case against had donated a lot a stuff and Tim hoped to find the evidence he needed. He did. Criminals were not smart) when he saw it: the ugliest of ugly sweaters. And he thought to himself, _that would make a great gag gift_ , and maybe a funny present would be right, because everything else was _wrong,_ too romantic, too casual, too everything and he had no idea what to get Jason. Mostly because he had no idea what he and Jason were.

So he gave Jason that hideous sweater, an offensive shade of red with big, fluffy trim and a truly creepy Santa face on the front and berserk reindeer prancing (it looked more like fighting to the death) on the back, and Jason had smiled.

“Nice,” he said and immediately tugged it on over his head and wore it proudly the rest of the day. Even when they went to get dinner. Tim thought that would be the end of it, but Jason had really taken to the thing and he was wearing it almost every time Tim saw him.

Tim didn’t know if Jason liking it was a compliment to him, or if Jason just had atrocious taste.

“Where are the marshmallows,” Jason called.

“Pantry, top shelf.”

“I’m looking on the top shelf. They aren’t here.”

“Oh. Well, then I probably ate them.”

“What?” Jason appeared at the kitchen doorway, sending Tim and incredulous look. "Are you kidding?“

“No.”

“Tim, that was nearly a full bag. I brought it last time I was here, unopened, and we had maybe a handful.”

Tim shrugged, careful not to spill his drink. “I like marshmallows.“

"Fucking- okay, well, I’m not going broke just to feed your sugar addiction.” Jason turned back into the kitchen for a moment and then came back, his own mug in hand, and walked over to the couch. "The next bag is on you.“

"If I have time,” Tim said, and Jason sighed because Tim never had time and if they wanted marshmallows again, Jason would be the one to buy them. Again.

He settled himself in against Tim’s side, wrapping a massive blanket around the two of them. The pair sipped their cocoa and were silent, enjoying the chocolate and warmth and the snow piling up on the window frame and each other. Breathing the other in, letting it calm frazzled nerves and weary minds.

Tim asked, “Do you like snow?”

Jason blinked, bringing himself back to there and then. “No. Snow means it’s cold enough to die on the streets. Snow gets in your clothes, inside your shoes and you either wear it, cold and wet and freezing, or you take them off to dry, cold and still damp and freezing. Snow makes it hard to run, trips you up and leaves tracks behind.”

Tim hummed. He didn’t have much to say in response. To him, snow was beautiful outside huge windows, draped across a huge lawn. Snow was a single snowman in that big yard, and soon another and another until Tim ran out of carrots and sticks. Snow meant sitting by the fireplace, reading quietly (always quiet, or else he had to leave because Dad was working on something). Snow made his parents stay home for longer, because of holidays and problems with the airplanes not being about to leave.

Nowadays it could be problematic. Snow made the Gotham skyline dangerous, slippery and harsh. (At least Tim never had to wear the shorts in winter. He did not envy Dick and Jason that.) But most recently, snow meant Jason barging into Tim’s apartment, declaring it was _too damn cold, I’m making hot chocolate and try to stop me, Drake._ Tim didn’t, and soon it became a regular thing. They sat across the kitchen table from each other, silent because they just had nothing to say. (Not like their silence now, comfortable and sweet.) Then the move to the couch was made, with plenty of room between them. And then one night they were touching, from ankle to shoulder, and neither moved away.

And there they sat, legs tangled and Jason’s arm around Tim, Tim’s head resting on Jason’s chest.

Jason pressed a kiss into Tim’s hair.

Jason made delicious hot chocolate wearing a stupid sweater, he was warm and comforting and outside the snow frosted Gotham and Tim was falling in love.


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "theatre kid!au where jay is an actor and Tim is a techie who is teching the show jay is staring in and there's quick changes and it's tim's job to help jay into costumes so tim sees him naked a lot & ends up falling in love"

Jason is stunning onstage. His energy and passion draw in every eye, and would even if he were playing a tree. His presence demands attention. Mr. Wayne was wise to give him the lead; he’d steal the show in any other role.

Off stage left, Tim watches the show. He treasures this angle, this view that very few get to experience. The actors aren’t facing him usually, but he sees things the audience will miss, like how Jason sometimes taps his thigh, a special beat for his lines, to get the timing just right.

He sees other things, too. Like, well. Jason’s ass. He has a wonderful view of that.

“What are men but mere men,” cries Jason as Cyrano. “Tonight, give me giants! Let’s go!”

And then Jason is turning (taking away Tim’s nice view) and marching offstage, right toward Tim and Tim nearly slaps himself. He has everything ready except his own mentality. In a rush of heavy breathing and the tang of sweat, Jason is standing there, waiting for Tim to get his shit together and start doing his job.

Right. His job.

Tim leaps forward and begins ripping off Jason’s clothes.

He loves his job.

With quick fingers (bigger than Tim’s), Jason helps, unbuttoning the shirt and unlacing the pants. Together they slide off the costume and in any other situation, without this specific context, it would appear overtly sexual. All that’s missing is steamy kisses peppered throughout the process and for Jason to be reaching out for Tim’s clothes, too- and fuck, that’s not a safe place for Tim’s mind to be drifting.

Soon Jason is stripped down to his underwear and Tim tries to take in as much as he can as subtly as he can, but he only gets a moment before he’s forced to start dressing Jay in the new costume.

“Shit,” Jason mutters as he slips his arm into the jacket. “I messed up.”

Tim kicks away the old pants and drops down, holding out the new pair for Jason to step into, carefully not thinking about the placement of… everything and what else he could be doing in that position. “You did?”

“I didn’t punch ‘giants’ hard enough,” he complains and rests a hand on Tim’s shoulder for balance as he shoves his feet into the pant legs. Tim tugs the waist up and Jason takes it from him to fasten the buttons.

“It sounded great to me, and I’ve seen you shout that line a hundred times. If I didn’t notice, no one else did either.”

“I’m sure the big man did.” Jason glances toward the audience where Bruce is seated in the front, watching intently.

Against all instincts, against the voice (of Bruce) in his head yelling, _faster, faster! I don’t care if you’re suddenly hit by a falling spotlight, get it done even faster than last time!_ Tim pauses, catches Jay’s attention. “Hey. It was good, okay? Amazing. And the rest of the show will be fantastic. It’s your acting.”

For a moment, Tim can’t hear a thing, not the bustle around them, not the lines Dick is reciting onstage, not his own heart beating madly. He is entirely focused on Jason’s face, the insecurity in his eyes and then the soft smile breaking like pale light through clouds after a storm.

Tim wonders when he got poetical.

And then Barbara saunters over, clipboard in hand, looking ready fight an army singlehandedly. She peers at Jason’s bare feet and turns her _look_ onto Tim, who snatches up the proper shoes.

“Got it,” he says before she can lay into him. He kneels again and helps Jason slip them on, his brain making a stupid connection to Cinderella. "We’re ready!“

Barbara nods and turns to check on the lighting. “You have eight seconds, Cyrano.”

Tim gives Jason a once over. “How’s the nose holding up?”

“If I sneeze, we’re fucked.”

“Then don’t sneeze,” Tim says. Jason reaches up to feel the fake nose, again, so Tim swats his hand away. "And stop fiddling with it!“

Jason sweeps a hand down his outfit and juts out his chin, displaying his changed face. “So, how do I look?”

 _Beautiful_ , Tim thinks. _Even with that nose._ What he says is, “Hideous.”

“Perfect.” Jason grins and Tim can see how excited he is, ready and proud.


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zombie apocalypse au, short fic

The sickening thuds of dead flesh pounding away at their make-shift door filled the space of what used to be an office room. The table propped across the opening rattled, and would give any minute. Jason turned and, even now when they had no escape, didn’t see a drop of fear in Tim’s determined jaw and hardened eyes.

“Tim,” he said as the first one broke through and he fired off a round from his trusty revolver. Five shots left. Tim had the same, he knew. “You shoot me if they take me.”

Four.

“No, Jas-”

“Baby. _Do it_.” Three. Two. “Please.”

One.


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soul mark au, short fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because of [this](http://generatorcat.tumblr.com/post/130172993122), in Teen Titans #29, right after Jason sneaks into the tower and fights Tim

Tim stares at the dripping red graffiti, frozen somewhere between shock, disbelief, and _maybe I can cut off my leg_. Just get rid of the thing, of that mark on his thigh, and the whole problem goes away, right?

Tim wonders what mark Jason has, and hopes it’s as stupid as that fucking hand print on his skin, exactly the same the one painted on the wall, mocking him in more ways than Jason had even intended.


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "jaytim volleyball AU where Tim is the tiny libero who needs and loves his tall Ace Jason? I need the fluff"

There was a wall in front of him and Jason could not remember the view it blocked. He tried and saw nothing but outstretched hands, coming down on him and tearing away his resolve. Looking at the top of the net he wiped sweat from his forehead and resigned himself to it. 

They were going to lose. 

He was going to lose it for them.

“Hey!”

Jason turned around to see Tim standing there, managing to stare him down while looking up at him. Tim planted his hands on his hips and set his shoulders back, cocked his chin up. 

“You stop that,” Tim commanded.

“What?”

“Whatever shit is going through your head right now. Stop.” He marched forward and raised his voice, uncaring of the fact that the rest of the team, and even some of the opponents’ team, had stopped to listen. “I’m here, okay? We all are. So you just keep hitting the ball until you break through, and I’ll keep doing my job.”

“Tim, I-”

Tim yelled, “I’ll receive anything you give me, until my knees are bruised!”

And Jason- he tried. He really did try to, but he couldn’t stop the laughter that tumbled out of him. 

“What are you laughing for?” Tim demanded, and Dick and Roy both clasped a hand over their mouth, shoulders shaking. A couple of people on the sidelines and the other side of the net were glancing between Jason and Tim, faces twisted in various shades of amusement and horror. 

Jason tried to speak through his laughter but it took a minute to get the whole thought out, “Tim, that sounded a lot different than you meant it.”

Tim, clearly confused, said, “How other way could it sound? I meant what I said. I’ll take it all day until you hit that peak.”

Dick crumpled to the gymnasium floor, sucking in frantic breaths through breaks in his mad laughter. 

Coach Wayne sighed and called, “Drake, remind me to have a chat with you about euphemisms.”


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim haikyuu!! AU??", short fic

As Jason lied there on the floor, dirt and grit under his palms and sweat dripping from his jaw onto the lacquered wood, he considered the possibility that he may never be able to play another game.

Coach Wayne called out, “Are you hurt, Todd?” And Jason wanted to say _yes, I am, and I should never be allowed on the court again_ because apparently he couldn’t handle himself enough to not get spiked in the face.

“He’s fine,” Roy laughed, throwing a not very subtle look at Tim. “He was just distracted, yeah?“


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tim wakes up early one morning to unexpectedly find Jason leaning against the kitchen counter drinking coffee. Jason's shirtless, only wearing a pair of grey joggers. "Want some?" he tilts his head in Tim's direction. "Yeah," Tim says, not sure exactly what he's saying yes to."

“Hot,” Jason warns.

Tim nods, eyes fixated on the little constellation of freckles above Jason’s left hip bone. “Wait, what?”

“The coffee.” He waves his mug, managing not to spill. “It’s hot, so be careful.”

“Careful. Right.”

Jason is standing close to the coffee maker and when Tim goes to pour his own cup, Jason doesn’t move away.

“So, what are you doing here?” Tim sips gingerly. It is hot.

“You have the best coffee.”

“Yeah?”

“I really like this Ethiopian.” Jason takes a swig and narrows his eyes. “Blueberry, lemon. A hint of warm spice.”

Tim stares up at him from over the rim of his mug until Jason looks away and shrugs.

“That’s what it said on the bag.”

And that, for some reason, is funny enough for Tim to choke on his coffee and it burns his nose and sloshes onto the floor, but he doesn’t mind because he can’t remember the last time he laughed like that. He wipes his face with his over-sized t-shirt.

Jason smiles, small and shy, and turns away. “Anyway, I should head out.”  
He side-steps to the sink and rinses his mug.

“Or,” Tim says, without knowing the end of the sentence. He watches the muscles of Jason’s back moving, and then Jason shuts off the water and turns around and Tim watches the muscles of his chest. “Or you could stay.”

Jason flinches.

“If you want,” Tim adds quickly. “We could… I don’t know, watch a movie? Play poker?”

Jason wraps an arm around his middle like he’s all the sudden realised he’s not wearing a shirt. Like _now_ is when he finally feels vulnerable. “Are you sure? I mean… I’m pretty good at poker, and you’re a shitty loser, Timmers.”

“I’m not the one that smashed his gear when we all played paintball.”

Jason scowls. “Dick was a dirty fucking cheater, okay?”

“Right,” Tim drawls, but he smiles in understanding because yeah, Dick had totally rigged that match. “Okay, well let me take a shower real quick and then I’ll break out the cards.”

He drains the last of his coffee and sets the mug in the sink. As he turns to leave the kitchen Jason touches his arm, making him stop and look up.

Jason bites his lip. “Careful,” he warns.


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaytim CIA agents, short fic

Dick pushed his way through the crowd, racing after Tim. He yelled, “It’s not worth it. Just let it go!”

“I can’t,” Tim called over his shoulder as he ran down the sidewalk, past boutiques and an ice cream shop and a pet store. He whipped out his ID badge and bellowed, “Federal agents! Everybody move aside!”

It helped somewhat, but mostly just confused or frightened people into _not_ moving, and with a growl Tim ran around them, Dick following closely. Suddenly Tim ducked into a store front, barging through the door and holding up his badge high.

“Every body freeze!”

The people inside the little pizza shop stopped moving, talking, _breathing_ , all staring at Tim and then Dick when he stumbled in after. All except one.

Tim moved to the back corner where a man lounged, still eating his peperoni pizza.

“Got you,” Tim said, grinning victoriously.

Jason rolled his eyes. “That’s one for you, finally. I’m still winning.”

“You think this is a game, punk?” Tim’s grin turned dangerous.

Dick sighed, “That’s exactly what it is,” and went to start apologizing to the poor, frightened civilians.

“Best three out of five?”

“I’ll even give you a head start, partner.”


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "JayTim, IKEA"

“It’s been…” Jason wipes the sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand before checking the time on his phone. He groans, “Four hours. Four hours since I’ve seen the sun. I wonder if the world looks the same. I wonder if people even remember me.”

“Jason Todd,” Tim barks. “Shut the _fuck_ up.”

Jason bites the inside of his cheek until Tim looks away again. He says softly, “Tim has entered a new stage of bitchiness, and I’m scared. He has digressed to shoving and heavy cursing.”

“I’m not shoving, you shitty excuse for a boyfriend!”

“Add name calling. And yes you did, you pushed that poor woman five minutes ago.”

Tim pauses and shifts his glare from the curtains to Jason. “I just nudged her a little. And it’s her own fault for blocking the damn isle. Who the hell hangs out in the middle of the flow of traffic? Idiots, that’s who!”

With a sharp turn, Tim goes back to the curtains, muttering something about having yellow in the 98 ½ “ but not the grey, and why the fuck were the sheer ones twice the price as the regular and does this pack come with just one panel or a pair, it doesn’t fucking say and-

Jason steps away to look at fabric and take a deep breath. “We’re almost done,” he tells himself. “Just have to get a lamp and then pick up the boxed bookcase from the warehouse, and then we can get out.”

“ _Jay_ ,” Tim yells, and he sounds so frantic that Jason nearly bowls over an entire picture frame display running back to the curtains. He finds Tim wide-eyed and shaking.

“I didn’t measure the width! I measured the length, 98 ½ ”, but not the width!“ Tim steps forward, the packs of curtain panels in his hand crinkling. In an eerie voice Tim asks, “Jason, how wide are our bedroom windows?”

“Um." Jason’s throat goes dry. "I don’t know-”

Tim whines, like a dying animal.

“But! But we can call Dick,” Jason says quickly. “He can measure it for us!”

He pulls out his cell phone as Tim nods, dazed. He’s got 2% battery life left and prays it’ll be enough.

Six minutes later his phone dies, but he’d gotten the measurements from Dick just in time and Tim picked out the curtains and they’re on their way to the lighting section.

Forty minutes later they have a lamp.

On the way to the warehouse Jason stops to pick out a candle and Tim nearly smashes his face with a salad bowl.

They make it to the warehouse and Tim breaks into a run chanting, “34K, 34K, 34K!”

They turn onto isle K and rush to find section 34. Box after box flies by, the smell of cardboard heavy in their noses, and then finally they arrive at 34-

And it’s empty.

Jason freezes. His _blood freezes._

Tim drops to his knees and sobs.

“Fuck you, IKEA!” Jason yells into the void.


	68. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim serial killer and Fbi au please :)"

Jason stood behind a chair on the far side of the room. He tilted his head when Tim opened the door, and smiled.

“Agent Drake.”

“Mr. Todd.”

The man in the chair screamed around the gag in his mouth and Jason cuffed the side of his head to silence him.

“Hush, you.”

Tim carefully stepped around the pools of blood on the floor. He made it five feet from the door before Jason twitched, and he stopped walking. “Is that Callaway?”

“It was. Now he’s just an animal. He’s always been an animal, but now he knows it, right?”

The man stared at Tim pleadingly. Tim kept his eyes and his gun trained on Jason.

“I said, _right_?” Jason put pressure on the knife he had positioned between Callaway’s third and fourth rib, making him nod frantically. Jason cooed, “That’s right. Just an animal. A savage, evil beast that ruins everything and doesn’t deserve to live. Right?”

And that time he was asking Tim. He looked up with a strange hopefulness in his expression.

“That’s up to the court to decide.”

Disappointment covered Jason’s features. He bent further down, bringing his lips to Callaway’s ear. “He knows. Agent Drake knows what you are, and what should happen to you, you piece of shit. And it ain’t a courtroom. It’s me.” He straightened and moved the knife to the man’s neck. He smiled again. “He just can’t say it out loud.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“You worked Grace’s case, right? And Sara and Riley and Toni and-”

“Hannah, Lauren, and Courtney. Yes.”

“See? He knows what you are,” Jason said and gripped Callaway’s hair tightly. “And he’s had a clear sight for two minutes and hasn’t taken the shot.”

Callaway’s wide eyes snapped to Tim, heavy with betrayal.

“I just don’t want to add to the mess in here.”

Jason laughed. “And look how he’s managed not to step in any of the blood. There’s no prints. Why, it’s almost as if he could walk out of here right now, and no one would ever know.”

“Don’t like blood on my shoes. It ruins the leather.”

“In fact,” Jason petted the ~~dead~~ man’s hair. “I think he might do just that. Walk right on out of here.”

Tim met Jason’s eyes and they were _hungry_ , so angry, and he lowered his .40 Smith&Wesson.

“I have to report in to my captain,” Tim said stated. “All clear.”

The man in the chair tried to yell, fought against the ropes that bound him. Jason sighed, shut his eyes slowly.

“But,” Tim said, “I might be back in under a minute. Captain Wayne isn’t a chatty guy, so it won’t take long.”

“It won’t take long,” Jason echoed, nodding. “Agent.”

“Todd.”

Tim turned and carefully stepped to the doorway, the screams of a dead man hitting his back and falling to the ground, drowning in an animal’s blood.


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mentally but not physically deaged Tim. JayTim or Gen c:"

Jason laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He heard feet padding down the hall towards his room and marveled at how it sounded the same as always, muscle memory making him step in the same places, in the same way. The same up until he reached the door, where usually he would just barge right in, but now he hesitated.

“Jason?” His voice was the same; the tone and pitch and how Jason clung to it. But the _way_ he spoke was off. Too soft. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah, ba- Tim. Come on in.”

He did, and he walked over to the bed and hesitated again.

Jason turned his head and saw the same thing he did every night.

No, not the same. He couldn’t let himself think that.

Not the same.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s dark and lonely in my room.”

Jason tried to figure out how much it was selfish when he asked, “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Yes, please,” was whispered into the darkness of the room before the mattress dipped.

After a moment Jason shifted to allow some space between them. There was warmth next to him, the warmth he’d been missing for days and he had no idea if he’d ever get it back. His hands itched to reach out and touch, to pull it close and bury himself in the smell and feel of him.

But he wasn’t the same.

He wasn’t Tim, and Jason wasn’t allowed to touch him or talk to him like he needed to, or curl himself around him and share the same air. But he was craving it. Like being forced to hold a cigarette and not given a match.

“Jason?”

“Yeah, Tim?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.” Jason rolled to face the wall and he felt Tim moving behind him. Then hands grabbed onto his shirt and breath puffed against his neck and Jason wanted to scream.


	70. Chapter 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "repellent--jaytim"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I guess you could view this as dealing with emotional abuse. It’s in a gray area between that and normal relationship problems, but if you’re sensitive to that sort of thing, I wouldn’t read this.

“How many times will you need to do this, before you’re sure I won’t leave?”

Tim’s words hung in the air, heavy and loud despite his whispering them. They _didn’t talk about it_ , and there he was, voicing it, breathing life and fire into that still thing that had been nesting in the far corner of their relationship.

Jason’s mouth twitched and he covered it with a cigarette. Bought a few seconds with the inhale to consider his response, and Tim saw each of them flickering across his eyes. Denial. Ignorance. Belligerence. Apology.

The truth:

“I don’t know.”

“I need you to sort it out soon,” Tim sighed, stepping into the room fully. Jason sat six feet away and it felt so much farther, yet too close. Tim was tired, coming down from adrenaline in the worst way; weary from taking sharp words to the chest, rather than the knives and fists he was used to. Those, he could endure and meet again and again, every night, indefinitely. That kind of hurt was easily bandaged and brushed away. What Jason did tore at something deeper. “I can’t take much more.”

Jason flinched again and scowled, opened his mouth to spew more of _it_ , of the stuff that would bruise and cut and scar. Tim saw it coming and stepped forward again, cutting it off before he could start.

“I don’t _want_ to leave, Jay, but I _will_. If you keep doing this. I shouldn’t have let it happen so many times already, and I’m sorry for not making it clear what I will and will not accept, but this has reached that point.”

He heard _it_ , from earlier, from the other times, burning in the back of his mind. Jason saying those things, any horrible thing, to drive Tim away. He was testing, pushing at the limits to see Tim break and end everything, like Jason was sure he would.

“It hurts,“ Tim said, low but clear. "And I won’t stay and let you hurt me. You need to stop and accept me loving you. You need to accept the thought of _someone_ loving you. If you don’t, you will be alone. Everyone will leave, give up after you pushing them away for so long, and it’ll be your own fault. Not because they didn’t love you, but because you wouldn’t believe they did.”

Tim saw the fight fade from Jason, his shoulders dropping and all the sharp angles flatting out. He slumped in the chair, cigarette forgotten and dangling from limp fingers. The other hand ran through his hair and tugged. He looked tired. Tired like Tim was.

Jason didn’t say anything and Tim decided it was over, for the moment. He turned to walk out of the room and let Jason think. He seemed to think better alone. At the doorway Tim paused. “And don’t smoke inside. There’s a window _right_ there.”

A soft, “Sorry,” came from behind and Tim wasn’t sure what it was meant for. He heard the window open and wasn’t sure if he’d find the room empty later.


	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'I wish you would write a fic where...' Tim wakes up next to Jason after a super amazing night of amazing things and they're all tangled up together and Tim is just a big mess of fluffy thoughts about how cute and perfect and beautiful Jay is, and the sunrise looks so pretty on Jason's face and, omg. I am a fluff monster right now, sorry."

Tim woke up from a dream about Two-Face. Jason, in his little green shorts and yellow cape, was fighting Harvey in a casino, in a giant roulette wheel. The massive ball was about to squish Harvey and Robin saved him just in the nick of time. 

Tim huffed, amused by the image still lingering in his mind. He opened his eyes to the soft, pale light of dawn coming in through the window. He stretched, joints popping in that oh, so satisfying way, and the sheets rubbed against his skin, warm and cozy. Warmer still was the person laying next to him. 

Letting his head roll to the side, Tim looked at Jason, sleeping soundly. He was facing the other direction, curled up on his side, blanket resting low on his waist, and Tim traced the lines of the many scars sketched into his back. Up on his shoulder Tim spotted a series of red marks and they reminded him of the night before, when he’d scratched Jason in an effort to not cry out too loudly (it didn’t work). 

He smiled. He closed his eyes and curled his toes, playing it all back in his head. 

When Jason shifted with a sleepy mumble Tim opened his eyes again to find he had turned over. Tim watched his face, his eyes twitching under his lids, forehead and cheeks and jaw and relaxed in a way he rarely was when awake. Jason nuzzled into his pillow and Tim bit his lip to keep from cooing at how cute it was, with his lips parted slightly, all red and- 

And gross breath puffing out that had Tim scrunching his nose. He reached out and gently pinched Jason’s lips back together, held it for long enough that he started to breathe through his nose again. 

Better, and Tim went back to cataloguing every way Jason was beautiful.


	72. Chapter 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ""I wish you would write a fic where..." jason stares at Tim as he walks down the aisle and can't help but cry because he's so handsome and beautiful and finally, finally Tim is going to be his officially and legally and he just is a mess"

The [music](http://generatorcat.tumblr.com/post/121919011917/radtracks-sea-of-love-cat-power-come-with) starts, gentle strumming on strings, light and sweet but deep and full of so many things, everything Jason is feeling in that moment. His heart beats in time with the notes (only twice as fast) and he wipes his sweaty palms on his tan pants. Tim is wearing grey, he knows. Light grey slacks and a pale blue shirt (robin’s egg blue). Jason is in pink. Cream ties.

The first line of the song shakes Jason out of his thoughts, his very unimportant thoughts. It’s time, he tells himself. Time to take a step.

He does, and then another, and he feels more alive than he ever has. He walks into this like he’s walking into battle, his insides jittering around and his feet sweating, but it feels better this time. Rather than fight, this time he will surrender and it feels so good.

He makes his way along the cobblestone path, down the side of the manor and around the corner to the back courtyard. Immediately he sees the people seated there in white wicker chairs. 46 of his favorite people. His and Tim’s.

Jason smiles. He smiles and he can feel it beaming from him, glowing from his chest and shouting to the world. He smiles and his favorite people smile, and he can feel it radiating from them, reflecting his own glee back at him.

The path curves to the left and he’s not facing the crowd any longer. He’s facing Tim.

Something, _everything_ inside him overflows, and he didn’t know he could _feel_ this much, not so much joy.

Tim is walking down the same path towards him, having come from the other end of the manor. He’s beautiful. Jason never understood that word until this moment.

Tim is smiling like Jason is. They must look like idiots, but they are idiots together, and isn’t that point of it all?


	73. Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " I wish you would write a fic where... Jason and Tim have nothing to do on patrol so they end up stargazing :)"

“Oh, there’s one!”

“Where?”

Jason jabs his finger at the sky insistently. “Right over the Gotham Federal Bank building.”

“Babe,” Tim says gently, “That’s another airplane.”

Jason squints at the speck of light in the sky for a moment before dropping his arm with a sigh of defeat. “Yeah. You’re right.” He glares up at the darkness, full of clouds and smog (hard to tell the difference) and void of stars. He lays back down on the rooftop, gravel crunching under his back. Next to him, Tim tugs at the cowl, probably wishing he could slip it off. “Sorry.”

“What for?”

“I thought it’d be, I don’t know, romantic? But nothing is romantic in Gotham.”

Tim laughs. “Hey, that date last week was romantic as fuck.”

“Date?” Jason turns his head to the side, looks at Red Robin like he’s crazy. (He is crazy)

(But so is Jason)

“That wasn’t a date, we took down a drug ring.”

“Together,” Tim points out. “You asked me out, picked me up even, provided fine entertainment, and then we had dinner. A date.”

“Hell, if I’d known your were that easy I never would have bothered with the nice dinners. Apparently you’re happy with fistfights and street vendors.”


	74. Chapter 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Champagne - jaytim"

“Tim, I don’t think-”

“No, no. Trust me, I got this.”

Stephanie sighs, rolls her eyes in the most exaggerated way Tim has yet to witness, but she hands over the bottle and takes a step back. Then another and another until she’s a good ten feet away. Tim thinks it’s a little much, but she’s not stopping him, so he’ll take it. He thinks it’s in vain, too.

He’s got this.

“Okay,” He announces. “You all watch and be amazed, friends.”

A mixture of groans and laughter and whispers comes from the people nearby. He sees Bart duck behind Kon. In the back corner of the room Alfred slips out the door, like he’s sure carnage is about to break the fun of the party and wants nothing to do with it.

That won’t happen though. Tim’s got this.

With a (mostly) steady hand, Tim holds the bottle of champagne in front of himself and rests a large knife on the side. The metal clinks against the glass. Quickly, he swipes the knife down the bottle to the cork at the end. It catches and Tim _pushes_ , and then feels it pull free from the opening with a loud _pop_. He’s already smiling wide when the foam starts to shoot from the glass neck.

The smile is wiped off his smug face when he hears an, “ _Ow_ , what the fuckin’ hell?”

Stephanie is hiding laughter behind a plate of shrimp. Bart ducks further behind Kon, who looks like he’s settling in for a show.

“Hey,” someone says, someone tall and barreling toward Tim. “You did that, right?”

Tim glances at the champagne running down his hand, as incriminating as blood at the scene of a murder. “Well, I. Did you get hit?”

The guy, clutching the side of his head, growls, “Yeah, I fucking got hit. Do you even know how to do that or are you just being a dumbass, trying to show off for your girlfriend?” He waves in Steph’s direction and she breaks, doubling over and cackling wildly.

“She’s not- I mean, we dated for a while, but we’re better as friends. Just didn’t work out, ya know?”

The man stares at Tim incredulously. “What the-”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Dick appears beside them as though he’d always been there and lays a hand on each of their shoulders. “Jason, nice to see you, man.”

Jason, apparently, glares at the hand on him and the smile Dick is sporting.

“So, remember how I was telling you all about my little brother,” Dick asks. “This,” he says with a nod and wiggly eyebrows, “is Tim.”


	75. Chapter 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fire, flames, or excessive heat."

They had a candle in their fort. It was small and green and shaped like a duck, and it made Tim mad because shouldn't a duck be yellow? But Bruce had explained that sometimes things are different than you expect them to be, or think they should be, and that’s okay, and color doesn’t matter anyway. A green duck is still a duck. Jason liked it simply because Tim didn’t like it.

It wasn’t really a duck any more though, as the wax had burned down more than halfway and only the tail feathers were recognizable.

The candle lit their fort, all by its lonesome. More candles would have been dangerous, and there wasn’t much room, and besides, it did a great job. They had enough light to see each other laughing, and that was enough.

Their fort was made of pillows and blankets and was quite cozy. Only Jason and Tim were allowed inside. Bruce and Alfred and even Dick were too big too fit, and they were _adults_. The fort was no place for adults. Damian was too young and clumsy, and he would grab at a structurally important couch cushion and nearly topple the whole arrangement. So it was only ever Jason and Tim, Tim and Jason.

They read books. Tim liked it when Jason read aloud because he would do funny voices for all of the characters. They told stories. Jason liked it when Tim told scary stories, not because they were scary, but because they weren’t, and it was funny to watch Tim try to be frightening. They ate. Tim would distract Alfred while Jason snuck snacks from the pantry and they both liked eating junk food until they were clutching their full tummies.

They did what kids do, in their fort for kids.

One day Jason kissed Tim, in their fort lit by the small remainder of a green duck, now a formless glob of wax in a bowl.

“What was that?” Tim asked, nose scrunched up and voice small. He sat with his legs pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them.

Jason shrugged, wiping at his lips to get the germs off (he didn’t believe in cooties still, but he’d just learned about germs in school). “I saw Dickie do that to Babs.”

Tim frowned. “Well why would _you_ do it to _me_?”

“They got this stupid look on their faces, and I wanted to see if it would happen to you.”

“Or to you?”

Jason shrugged again. “Well it didn’t work, so it’s stupid. They’re stupid.”

“Yeah,” Tim sighed. He unfolded himself, tucking his legs underneath his butt. “But, there must be a reason why they like it, right?”

“I guess.”

“So, that means you just didn’t do it right.”

“Hey!” Jason shoved at Tim, who laughed and righted himself again.

“We should try again,” Tim suggested. “To make sure.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Jason said, “Fine,” and leaned in to kiss Tim again. Their lips pressed dry and stiff against each other, and a pillow fell over, taking with it the right wing of the fort. Startled, the boys moved away from each other and looked to the drooping sheet, which had never shown signs of instability before. Jason huffed and the thing that was once a candle blew out, taking their light from their fort.


	76. Chapter 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fistfights"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically a No. 6 AU

Tim stumbled into an alley, the first one he found that didn’t have a body on the ground. He threw himself against the brick wall and panted, sucking in stale air and the smell of rot. He’d learned that in the morning, that the smell was everywhere and the people there didn’t notice it any longer. By afternoon he hadn’t gotten used to it yet and he recoiled from nothing, from everything.

“Good job, little bird.”

From where the shadows hid things Tim knew now he did not want to see, Jason stepped out, hands in his jacket pockets and stride easy.

“What,” Tim wheezed, still struggling with the toxic air. “Where were you?”

With a shrug that whispered, _everywhere,_ Jason come closer, peered down at Tim’s flushed face. “You’re all bloody. You ever been bloody?”

Hesitantly Tim touched his lips and nose and cheek, flinching at each brush of his fingers but not stopping. He had never been bloody before. Never been hurt like that before.

He’d never done a lot of things before.

He looked up, trying to reconcile the man before him with the one he’d thought he’d known. “You left.”

“You sound so betrayed. Haven’t heard a voice like that in…” Jason cocked his head thoughtfully. “Too long.”

“I was- they came after me, and you weren’t there.” He’d searched the crowd for that one person that felt safe. He’d expected help, like last time, and the time before.

“You got away,” Jason reasoned, a smile pulling at the side of his mouth.

Tim looked down at his ripped sweater, the dirty pants and scratches on his hands. “Barely. They tried to kill me, Jason.”

“Most people here will do that.” The words bounced off the walls in front of and behind them, amplifying the sound and drilling into Tim’s ears what he didn’t want to hear. (But he did, right? That’s what he’d asked for.)

Tim blinked, glancing around for something familiar, something to latch onto while he fell into this absurd experience. No, reality. _This_ was real. Where he’d been before, _what_ he’d been… that wasn’t worth clinging to. “I thought you would…” _Take care of me._

Jason pulled a square of cloth from his pocket and held it out. "Do you want me to save you or do you want to learn to save yourself?“

Tim saw the offers for what they were. He took the cloth and gently wiped the blood from his mouth.“So you’ll teach me how to fight, huh?”

“I’ll teach you how to not start fights, first. And then how to defend yourself.”

“And you couldn’t teach me _before_ we went to the market?”

“Would you have agreed? I saw it, that look on your face like this was a fascinating new world for you to explore. Not the dangerous shit pile it is. But now you know.”

Tim remembered a young girl giving half of her tiny portion of bread to a boy, maybe her brother. He’d seen them as he was running for his life and wished he had some bread to share with them. “It’s not a complete shit pile. There’s good in it.”

Taking the cloth from Tim’s shaking hand, Jason wiped away what Tim couldn’t see for himself, eyes soft in a way Tim had seen only a few times, and only ever directed at himself. "The only good in this place is you. And I’m afraid that won’t last much longer.“


	77. Chapter 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hc that Tim, when he's feeling down, stressed or whatevs, he'll promptly shove away from whatever he's doing and go find the nearest person to curl up next to. Sometimes he's just silent, sometimes he'll chatter about mundane things to cheer himself up. Usually he ends up sitting beside Bruce but some days it’ll be with Jason who’s kinda at first like, “uhm why are you doing this you realize I can hurt you right?” Tim: *pats his shoulder* “Can, but probably won’t.” and it becomes their little thing after Jason gets used to it. Now Tim will rest his head in Jay’s lap as Jason plays with his hair bc he knows Tim finds that really soothing and it’s like his calm-down technique."

Jason doesn’t know why, even after so long, but never once has questioned it aloud. He’s stopped questioning everything Tim does because the answer is usually some circular logic that only makes sense to Tim.

So when Tim suddenly appears on the couch next to him, Jason bites back the curiosity. When Tim nudges his head against Jason’s shoulder like a cat demanding petting, Jason lifts up his arm and lets Tim nestle down at his side.

He shifts his attention back to the book in his hand and waits. Waits to see what Tim needs that day.

Sometimes Tim will stretch out across his lap and talk and talk and talk, not caring that Jason never responds, or even barely listens. (Maybe that’s why he chose Jason, like some inanimate thing to unload on, a diary that won’t tell him what to do, how to think, what to feel.) Other times he will perch on the floor nearby and just _be_. Close, but not. (Maybe he just needs to be reminded that there are people, out there and breathing. That Jason is breathing.)

Jason has read two full pages by the time Tim stirs, taking Jason’s unoccupied hand and placing it on his own head. Jason blinks down at it, at his hand on Tim’s head, and then he slowly runs his fingers through Tim’s hair and wonders when the hell they got so comfortable with each other. When Tim stopped seeing a threat in every move Jason made.

He wondered when he stopped seeing Tim as prey.

Why, Jason wants to ask, does Tim trust him like this? Why does he trust him at all? Jason is dangerous, everyone knows it. Tim used to know it.

Dangerous.

Jason goes back to his reading, playing with Tim’s hair and not understanding the words in front of his eyes or the way Tim is so relaxed or why Jason feels so good about Tim being so relaxed. The questions tumble around in his mind and make the back of his tongue itch. He clears his throat but it doesn’t help.

Finally he asks, “Why me?” and it’s too loud, the first noise in the room for too long. But that’s not it, not really. They were comfortable with the quiet.

It sounds insecure. That’s the problem. Fragile.

Tim hums, too content for the way Jason is suddenly nervous. He expects Tim to say that he’s the only one around, the only one that will put up with him. That this whole thing was out of necessity. That Tim wanted someone else and settled for Jason, who would actually pick Jason, ever, he’s dangerous stay away-

“Safe.”

The word cuts into Jason’s thoughts, sharp even with how softly Tim had spoken. He goes still, trying to process the word, such a simple word it shouldn’t be so hard to understand but he can’t, why would Tim think-

Tim wiggles, pushes up into Jason’s hand that has stopped petting to get it to start again.

Jason feels smoke burning his lungs, feels ice freezing his toes and the softness, the firmness of Tim next to him.

“Safe?”

“Yeah,” Tim says and it sounds like he might be falling asleep. “Safe. And warm. And sometimes you smell like burgers. I like it.”

A laugh falls out of Jason, slightly manic is his disbelief.

Burgers. Alfred has been dropping hints that Jason’s eating too much junk. That he should come over to the manor more often for ‘real food’.

Warm. Jason hasn’t felt warm since he was… well, never, really. The streets were cold and death was colder and neither have left him fully.

Safe.

Safe.

Jason marvels at the word, tasting it on his tongue and it’s foreign. (Not completely, some part of him knows. He knew the taste when he was Robin. A little.)

And that’s it.

He looks down at Tim, at the only person left that still sees Robin in him. Not the dead Robin, or the angry Robin, or suit in the case.

The good part.

The good parts of Jason.

The safe part.

The part Jason had forgotten.

He wraps his arm a little tighter around Tim, scratches behind his ear. Lets himself think for a moment that maybe he’s good now, good for Tim. For himself.


	78. Chapter 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boot camp AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by [this](http://generatorcat.tumblr.com/post/138037742407/ackles-with-snackles-generatorcat) picture

“We aren’t here to learn how to kill,” Tim said as he slipped out of the hold Jason had on him. Rather than back away like Jason expected, Tim kept in close and threw out a few quick jabs. They weren’t very painful but they were potentially lethal, had Tim hit with enough force or used a knife.

Jason tried to get a hold again, figuring his best advantage was size and strength, and if he could get this on the floor, he would be able to pin Tim easily. “Then someone should tell the CO, he’s had me using real bullets and everything.”

“That’s the byproduct. We will use it later, maybe.” Clearly Tim saw what Jason did and danced away to keep the spar upright. He was good at not getting caught. “But it’s not the purpose, not here. Not yet.”

“Then why are we here?”

“All of this is for one thing: psychological training.”

Jason wiped sweat out of his eyes. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He thought it would be an easy take-down. He also thought Drake was cute as fuck, and asking to spar was the only move he had. Jason swore to work on his flirting skills, because all his current tactic had earned him was sore muscles (not in the fun way) and a lecture on the Meaning of Boot Camp.

Tim did look good though, messy and poised to strike. Little body brimming with power but calm and smooth and gorgeous.

“Oh, really,” Jason prompted. He wanted to keep the conversation going. Keep the fight going. Keep being in the same space and share the same air as Tim.

For a moment Tim looked surprised, like being asked to continue was a new experience. He shook it off and threw out a kick, catching Jason’s right knee and making him drop down onto his hands. In a flash Tim was on him, behind him, arm looped around his neck with increasing pressure.

“We’re being reprogrammed,” Tim said as he cut off Jason’s air supply. “They take people and turn them into things that ignore logic. _Instincts_.”

With a grunt Jason pushed up and to the side, throwing Tim off. Jason rolled and caught Tim before he could right himself. Jason grinned. This was what he’d been aiming for. He settled himself on top of Tim with one forearm across his throat, the other pinning Tim’s arms, and his legs twined with Tim’s.

“What instincts are we losing, Drake? I gotta say, I feel like I still have mine.”

Like the instinct to push down, get closer, get more of the feel and smell of the body underneath him.

Tim looked up, seemingly unbothered by being trapped. “Self-preservation. Now we run _to_ the sound of gun shots. Now we leap into fire. We throw ourselves on grenades, drown in the ocean without asking for a floatable because it’s expected. Commanded.”

“That’s how it works, Timmy. That’s what being a soldier is. And we won’t be drowning, not with how much endurance swim training we’ve done.”

Tim tilted his head, which showed how little pressure Jason was putting behind his hold, how little control Jason really had over the situation. Jason had a weak memory of the first time he’d seen Tim, right at the start of everything before they’d had their hair cut. Tim’s hair was long in the memory, and Jason felt like it should be here now, fanned out on the ground around his head.

“And why are we swimming, Todd? What good is that in the desert?”

The rush of having Tim under him started to fade, and something crept in under his skin, in the back of his mind where things went when he wanted to forget.

“People are taught that killing is wrong,” Tim went on, voice soft. “From infancy, that’s the rule. That’s what makes people good or bad. In this place, that is our greatest handicap. That’s what they’re trying to get rid of. That’s the purpose of all of this, because you’re right; that’s what a soldier is. Unthinking and without morality. A soldier cannot be a person. We are held to a different standard of what the word means.”

Jason swallowed the burn rising up in his throat. He wanted to get up. “They make us stronger.”

“Do they really?” Tim looked at him with something like sympathy in his eyes, something Jason hadn’t seen in weeks. “Were you weak before? Or were you just a person?”


	79. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim internet friends au"

“You should just share it,” Conner suggested as he frothed milk.

Tim leaned against the pick-up counter and watched as Cass and Conner prepared five drinks at once. “Share,” he echoed flatly.

“Yeah, you know, compromise. Switch days. You could even make up a little schedule for it.” Conner turned to snatch a long spoon and hide his smile. Tim caught it anyway. Cassandra, on the other hand, was smirking outright.

“But then he wins.”

“No, you both win. That’s the point of a compromise.” With a flourish that Tim felt was unnecessary, Conner poured the milk into a paper cup and swirled the foam.

“The point of a compromise is that we both lose,” Tim insisted. “And I _won’t lose_.”

Conner set the drink on the counter and called for a _Dana_ to come pick it up. He took a moment to rest his hip against the bar and look at Tim with big, sad, blue eyes. “I don’t know what your parents did to you,” he said and then pushed away to make the next drink.

“I don’t either, but that’s not relevant here.”

“Move,” Cass said, and Tim flinched away from the steaming hot mug she had just set down, touching his arm. “Jason.”

Tim rubbed at his arm. “Yeah, you gonna help with that or just laugh at me?”

Cass smiled. “Jason,” she said again.

“I know his name, now tell me how to crush him!”

“Crush me?”

Tim whipped his head around. There Jason stood, reaching for the mug on the counter. He turned back to see Cassandra smiling wider than ever and Conner laughing into the open bar fridge.

“Good luck with that,” Jason said with a click of his tongue and walked back to sit at the good table. Tim’s table.

Tim rubbed his arm again. “Shit, that’s hot.”

He watched as Jason sat down, making himself comfortable at the little table in the far back corner of the coffee shop. The _good table_ with the most comfortable chair, easy access to the wall outlet, no glare from the morning sun shining through the windows, and a fair distance away from the noisy espresso machine. The one Tim and Jason had entered a passive-aggressive feud over.

Jason first showed up three weeks ago. For nearly a year Tim had been claiming the good table in the back corner at nine o'clock Monday through Thursday morning. Then one day (henceforth known as Black Wednesday) he came in and Conner had winced, giving him an apologetic look with his coffee that he understood when he turned to go to his table, only to find it occupied. The following Thursday his seat was again taken. On Monday Tim showed up ten minutes early and snagged the table. Five minutes later the guy walked over, steps stuttering when he saw Tim had taken the seat.

On Wednesday (Black Wednesday II) Tim had come in at his new time of ten minutes early to find he was too late.

Tim turned back around, scowling at himself for being four measly minutes late today.

“Fucking shoe laces,” he mumbled bitterly. Conner gave him a quizzical glance and Tim rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask. Just go over there and kick him out.”

“You know I love you, but I’m not doing that. Give it up man, you didn’t get it today.“

“But I _have_ to have it today.”

Cass set another mug on the counter, this one with a mountain of whipped cream and green sprinkles. Tim hummed gratefully and curled his hands around it.

“Looks nice,” Cass said.

Tim glanced up from where he was shoving his face into the whipped cream. “What?”

She tilted her chin, motioning behind him. “Jason. Dressed up today.”

Tim glanced behind him. Jason was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, like always. Maybe they were nicer, though. When he turned back Tim found Cass scrutinizing him with an amused look. “You, too.”

He shrugged it off, as casually as possible (which wasn’t at all) and wiped his mouth. Ignoring the silent question buried in Cass’s statement, and the fact that he was wearing his good jeans today (and maybe he gelled his hair), he said, “Cassie, sweetheart, could you move him please? I need that table.”

“I could,” She answered with an easy twirl back to the espresso machine. "But I won’t.“

“What’s up? Why is it so important today,” Conner asked.

Tim sighed. He held his coffee in front of him like a shield and admitted in a quiet voice, "I’m meeting someone.“

The milk crackled dangerously and Conner cursed, hurriedly fixing the angle of the steam pitcher. "Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“A date,” Cass said (not asked), grinning.

“Not a date,” Tim protested, but he could see it was futile. Cassandra had _ideas_.

Conner, thankfully, appeared to not be jumping to conclusions. “So who is it?”

“A friend,” Tim said lightly.

Conner gave him a look but let it slide. For now. “And why can’t you meet your friend at a different table?”

Tim bit his lip and the metaphorical bullet. “I told them I would be sitting at the one in the far back and… they don’t actually know what I look like. So as it stands now, they’re gonna go up to Jason thinking he’s me, and I’ll be forced to go over there and clarify everything…”

“Oh, fuck.”

Tim frowned and shifted to look at Jason, who was standing nearby holding some napkins and sporting a vaguely horrified expression.

“What?”

Jason flinched, shuffling his feet and not meeting Tim’s eye. “Are you, um.” He cleared his throat and fortified himself. “Are you _Dungeons-and-Drakes_?”

Tim froze, mouth open and eyes wide. After a moment he reminded himself to breathe. Quietly he stammered, “… _F-flipping-the-jay-bird_?”

Cass’s cackling laughter broke through the moment and had every head in the shop turning to stare at them.


	80. Chapter 80

Jason doesn’t know why, even after so long, but never once has questioned it aloud. He’s stopped questioning everything Tim does because the answer is usually some circular logic that only makes sense to Tim.

So when Tim suddenly appears on the couch next to him, Jason bites back the curiosity. When Tim nudges his head against Jason’s shoulder like a cat demanding petting, Jason lifts up his arm and lets Tim nestle down at his side.

He shifts his attention back to the book in his hand and waits. Waits to see what Tim needs that day.

Sometimes Tim will stretch out across his lap and talk and talk and talk, not caring that Jason never responds, or even barely listens. (Maybe that’s why he chose Jason, like some inanimate thing to unload on, a diary that won’t tell him what to do, how to think, what to feel.) Other times he will perch on the floor nearby and just _be_. Close, but not. (Maybe he just needs to be reminded that there are people, out there and breathing. That Jason is breathing.)

Jason has read two full pages by the time Tim stirs, taking Jason’s unoccupied hand and placing it on his own head. Jason blinks down at it, at his hand on Tim’s head, and then he slowly runs his fingers through Tim’s hair and wonders when the hell they got so comfortable with each other. When Tim stopped seeing a threat in every move Jason made.

He wondered when he stopped seeing Tim as prey.

Why, Jason wants to ask, does Tim trust him like this? Why does he trust him at all? Jason is dangerous, everyone knows it. Tim used to know it.

Dangerous.

Jason goes back to his reading, playing with Tim’s hair and not understanding the words in front of his eyes or the way Tim is so relaxed or why Jason feels so good about Tim being so relaxed. The questions tumble around in his mind and make the back of his tongue itch. He clears his throat but it doesn’t help.

Finally he asks, “Why me?” and it’s too loud, the first noise in the room for too long. But that’s not it, not really. They were comfortable with the quiet.

It sounds insecure. That’s the problem. Fragile.

Tim hums, too content for the way Jason is suddenly nervous. He expects Tim to say that he’s the only one around, the only one that will put up with him. That this whole thing was out of necessity. That Tim wanted someone else and settled for Jason, who would actually pick Jason, ever, he’s dangerous stay away-

“Safe.”

The word cuts into Jason’s thoughts, sharp even with how softly Tim had spoken. He goes still, trying to process the word, such a simple word it shouldn’t be so hard to understand but he can’t, why would Tim think-

Tim wiggles, pushes up into Jason’s hand that has stopped petting to get it to start again.

Jason feels smoke burning his lungs, feels ice freezing his toes and the softness, the firmness of Tim next to him.

“Safe?”

“Yeah,” Tim says and it sounds like he might be falling asleep. “Safe. And warm. And sometimes you smell like burgers. I like it.”

A laugh falls out of Jason, slightly manic is his disbelief.

Burgers. Alfred has been dropping hints that Jason’s eating too much junk. That he should come over to the manor more often for ‘real food’.

Warm. Jason hasn’t felt warm since he was… well, never, really. The streets were cold and death was colder and neither have left him fully.

Safe.

Safe.

Jason marvels at the word, tasting it on his tongue and it’s foreign. (Not completely, some part of him knows. He knew the taste when he was Robin. A little.)

And that’s it.

He looks down at Tim, at the only person left that still sees Robin in him. Not the dead Robin, or the angry Robin, or suit in the case.

The good part.

The good parts of Jason.

The safe part.

The part Jason had forgotten.

He wraps his arm a little tighter around Tim, scratches behind his ear. Lets himself think for a moment that maybe he’s good now, good for Tim. For himself.


	81. Chapter 81

“Jason, how could you? That is my _favorite_ part!” Tim whines, leaning far to the side to try and see around the great big bulk of boyfriend blocking the tv.

“Are you serious,” Jason asks in a dead voice, the one reserved for the very worst of Tim’s idiocy. Behind him, Elle Woods is owning the courtroom and Tim throws himself to the other side, neck craning.

Jason sighs, figures Tim will come find him when it’s over in fifteen minutes, and walks to the bathroom to make sure all of the bows and straps and lacy bits are sitting right. Again.


	82. Chapter 82

Tim’s ragged, choked breaths filled the space around him, too loud and wet and they bounced off the crumbling plaster walls, right back at him and reminded him he was the only one making those noises. He fumbled for his communicator, barely felt as his fingers did the work by muscle memory, his mind too gone to truly be controlling the movements. The bug in his ear crackled and he called home.

“Did you get the building clear?”

The voice in his ear was dark and rough and felt like that scratchy blanket you keep around for really cold nights.

Tim was rather cold.

It took a moment, and another, Tim’s mouth forming words but no voice coming through to finish them. It was just his panting (his, only his). Frantic.

“Red Robin,” Bruce demanded. “What is the situation?”

“He- he’s not.” Tim swallowed, his throat sticking to itself and tongue feeling much too large. His voice was thin and cracked. He didn’t recognize it. Finally he forced out, "He’s not breathing!“

“Who?”

Tim felt it, what he was about to say, pushing down on his shoulders and making him bow over. Crushing his knees into the concrete.

“Jason,” he whispered.

“Red Robin,” Bruce growled, and Tim heard the shift, the panic starting in at the edges. “What is going on.”

“He isn’t breathing, B. I tried. I tried everything, I promise I did.” His voice was still a raspy, pathetic sound. His eyes were stuck on Jason, laying on the ground in front of him.

He had tried everything he could think of, which, with all of his training, was a lot. Every CPR tactic, even a shot of pure adrenaline.

“It didn’t work,” he said.

Bruce was silent. No doubt jumping to the car to race over and pull something amazing, something only Batman can do. Tim hoped so.

He was kneeling over Jason. He reached down and scooped him up in his arms, grunting with the effort. He pulled Jason up and into his lap and his hold slipped a bit from all of the blood soaking him and Jason and the ground and Tim could hardly see past it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, to Jason and to Bruce and to everyone and he’d ever let down.

“I’m sorry,” he said to the man across the airwaves, the one who’d just lost his son. Again.

And Tim hadn’t been good enough to stop it.


	83. Chapter 83

Robin was pinned down in the corner of a warehouse, ducking behind some crates he hoped wouldn’t explode on impact. Bullets rattled the crates and flew by overhead. Tim checked his pouches and cursed softly when he found only two smoke pellets, some wire, and a chewy caramel candy.

He popped the candy in his mouth because he might just die in a few minutes and he’d like to go out with that sweetness on his tongue. And really, why not?

Instinct had him reaching for his staff but he caught himself, remembering it wasn’t there. It was, currently, sadly, on the other end of the structure. On the other side of those big, bad, mad men with guns.

So, options were limited. That just made it more fun.

The caramel stuck to his teeth and he sucked at it while forming a brilliant plan of escape that people would sing of for decades.

Before he could implement that very daring and fascinating plan, he heard another gun enter the melee. Different from the others, and accompanied by screams and shouts. A moment later all noise stopped and Tim risked peeking his head out from behind the boxes. What he saw was Red Hood standing over five bodies and a smoking gun in each hand. Literally, still had whiffs of smoke trailing above them.

Tim, with no interest in confronting Red Hood when he was still terribly unarmed, would have stayed where he was but he was spotted.

“You can come out, Replacement.”

Tim waited until Jason holstered his guns and then slipped out from behind his cover, carefully stepping over to stand a safe distance away. Safe-ish. He really wanted his staff.

Robin asked, “What are you doing here.”

“Oh, thank you, Red Hood. I surely would have suffered a violent end if not for your very brave intervention,” he answered in a high voice that had Tim’s nose twitching. He did _not_ sound like that.

“Right,” Tim said in a flat tone. He waved at the men and the blood and the empty bullet shells covering the floor. “Thank you for your wonderful, murdering help. But next time, don’t.”

Jason rolled his head to the side. “Really.”

“I don’t need help, Red Hood. Not your kind.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll let you die next time since that’s what you want. But I’ll tell you, it’s not fun.”

Tim cringed inwardly, which was exactly what Jason wanted. He loved reminding everyone what had happened and watching them squirm with it. Tim sighed and asked, “Why do you even care? We’re not friends.”

Last Tim had checked, before Jason suddenly decided to get protective, they’d been enemies, and he couldn’t remember why that would have changed.

He really had no idea why Jason had stopped to help.

“You’re right.” Jason leaned back as if Tim had pushed him. “We’re not.”

Silently Red Hood brushed past Tim, managing to come as close as possible without touching him, and Tim felt the smallest bit of relief at that. It also, strangely, felt like disappointment.

Without turning around Tim called out, “Who did you do that for?”

Tim couldn’t think it was for him, that Jason suddenly liked and cared for him as a person. Maybe it was some kind of _look what a bad job you’re doing that I had to come in and save you_. Or that message could be for Bruce, a reminder that he’s not protecting his Robin. Both of those possibilities had Tim clenching his fists. He didn’t want to be a pawn in some twisted game Jason was playing with Bruce. And he didn’t need the help, besides.

It could have been for Jason, Tim thought. To make himself feel better. If he saves Robin then maybe… Maybe he just couldn’t stand the thought of another Robin being hurt like he was, and it wasn’t Tim he was trying to save, but the suit. Jason had gotten mad that Bruce let Robin continue, said he was putting another kid in danger and he should have just let it die with Jason.

And then he had the wild notion that he did it for Bruce, because he didn’t want Bruce to go through the pain of losing another Robin.

He figured it would be more likely Jason had come to care for _Tim_ , which was impossible itself.

Who did Jason do that for?

Tim wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know.

Tim couldn’t hear whether Jason was still there or not. He asked the dark, crumbling warehouse, “Do you even know?”


	84. Chapter 84

Jason traces a line right in the middle of Tim’s chest, in the narrow gap where his ribs meet.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tim answers plainly. “Batarang. In your wannabe bat cave. Remember, _be my Robin?_ ”

Jason doesn’t apologise, with words or a look. That’s not what Tim needs or wants. That’s not what this is for. “Oh, right. I really thought you were dead at that one.”

Tim reaches out and flicks the shell of Jason’s left ear, where there’s a notch in the line. “And that one?”

Jason smiles. “Our first meeting. Falling out the window of the Tower, got cut up by the window glass.”

“Me, too,” Tim says as he flips his wrist up to show a tiny, white scar at the start of his thumb.

“What else,” Jason asks into the skin of Tim’s hand, his lips brushing the palm.

Tim shows him. Until the early hours when soft light starts to shine through the curtains, they are roaming hands and whispered questions, exploration and heat and acceptance.

And the resentment and pain are replaced with truth and understanding. They keep the memories, it would be foolish to forget what they have been and done to each other, but they strip away the negativity and in its place is something clear, something comfortable.

The next night they start on the scars made by others. Made by a world that’s beaten them down again and again. They talk. They touch. And they take back their bodies.


	85. Chapter 85

Tim Drake did not have game. He wasn’t sexy in a conventional sense. He wasn’t smooth and didn’t know how to flirt. He was, as Stephanie lovingly put it, a hot, awkward mess. Which really put him stuck between a rock and a _hard place_ when he realized that he maybe really liked Jason but nothing would come of it because any attempt at courtship ended… embarrassingly.

He tried to be seductive. It didn’t go well.

One night they were working the cave, Jason running his equipment through a thorough check, Tim making some modifications to the Red Bird. He wore a shirt that fastened with snaps, rather than buttons, and thought it would be sexy to yank them all open and slip the shirt off. So he grabbed the either side by his collar and pulled… but it wouldn’t open, and he pulled again harder and yet nothing, what was wrong with these snaps, where they glued shut or something?

“You okay other there?” Jason called, and that was great, so great that Jason was apparently aware of what Tim was doing, but it would have been so much nicer if his plan had worked. As it was Tim was just tugging, frustrated, at his shirt front.

“Yeah, just fine,” Tim answered, and it came out a growl as he pulled, and finally it opened! Just, a little more violently than he’d hoped. His elbow flew out and knocked over some tools on the cart next to him. But off went his shirt, so. Progress.

He started working the car, not being too careful about oil smudges because that was hot, right? To have grease marks on his arms and face. It was sexy on Jason, at least.

After a few minutes he saw another opportunity: the wrench he needed was on the ground. Tim strategically positioned his back to Jason and bent down, slowly, to pick up the wrench. On the way up his knee popped. “Oh- shit,” he cried.

“You good? That sounded bad.”

“Yeah!” Tim whirled around. “It’s fine, happens a lot. My body makes weird noises all the time.”

And Tim kind of wanted to smash his face in with the wrench he was holding.

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, and Tim hoped it was a smile tugging at his lips. Probably not.

“Oh, well then. Okay.” Jason went back to cleaning his grapple gun.


	86. Chapter 86

“If you die, I’ll kill you,” Jason growls into the communicator.

“Well at least then we’ll be even,” comes the reply, tickling his inner ear. “In fact, then I’d be even with everyone; I’ve really fallen behind on the whole, ‘being dead’ thing.”

Jason watches the building across the street, his hands rolled into tight fists, his jaw clenched. “Tim.”

“I mean, I haven’t even pretended to be dead!”

“ _Tim_.”

“I haven’t gotten a funeral, or my very own headstone.”

The timer on the window sill in counting down, ticking, ticking, bright red numbers falling and it makes Jason uneasy, memories and reality both curling around in his chest and making it hard to breathe.

“I wonder what it would say,” Tim muses, voice light like he isn't twenty seven, twenty six, twenty five seconds away from-

“It would say, here lies Timothy Drake, the idiot that never listened when people told him to get his ass out of the fucking building right fucking now.”

“That’s not very poetical.”

“Tim, _please_.”

Jason is so close to throwing himself out of the window, blowing his cover and diving right into the building that’s set to blow in fourteen seconds.

“It’s okay, honey.” And Jason catches his breath because that wasn’t over the communicator, that was right behind him, and before he can turn around there are hands wrapping around his waist as Tim slides up next to him. “I’m here.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later. Right now, I want to watch-”

The building across the street explodes, a magnificent ball of orange and black and red, of heat and smoke and force. Tim eyes are trained onto the scene, captivated. Jason’s eyes are stuck on Tim.


	87. Chapter 87

The door creaks open and Tim turns to see a hulking lump of a person, or what he hopes is a person and not some new kind of alien he’s not yet familiar with because it looks super gross and he doesn’t want to have to befriend a whole race of… that. The thing shuffles forward, dripping something green and foamy that _plops_ onto the hardwood floor. It’s covered in the stuff, along with a number of other matter that Tim can only guess at, in varying colors and viscosity.

“Whatever you are, you’re cleaning up the floor,” Tim calls from a safe distance, staying behind the island counter in his kitchen.

“Fuck,” a voice croaks, and the thing turns toward Tim.

“I’m serious, you stop right there. If you get that shit on the carpet…” He lets the threat hang, unsaid. It must be sufficiently ominous, as the creature stops just inside the door.

“Tim.”

Tim squints… “Jason?”

“Baby, you gotta help me.”

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Cass… Damian…” Jason heaves a deep, shaky breath. Raises his hands to wipe ineffectually at his face and only succeeds in dripping more of the slime and goop onto the floor. When he looks up again Tim can make out just enough of his face to see he’s really been though something. He’s traumatized. And a little pathetic. “They’ve united.”

“Oh _fuck_.”


	88. Chapter 88

Tim dances his way through the crowd. Jason hasn’t checked in for eight minutes and Dick hasn’t sent up a signal, so Tim has been treading water, watching the target but not engaging. He needs to talk to one of them, find out what the hold up is. He’s ready to finish this job and get home.

He pushes his way to the bar, stumbling out of the mass of people. He doesn’t mind the dancing really, or having everyone pressed up against him. He just prefers to do it when he’s there for fun and can lose himself in the music.

After a minute of searching Tim spots Jason seated at the end of the bar, his back to Tim. He’s talking to someone. A beautiful girl in a low-cut dress and tall, tall heels. The girl smiles, writes something on a napkin and slides it over to Jason, who picks it up and tucks it away in his jacket pocket.

Tim gasps. Marches up to the pair. “Jason!”

“Oh, hey baby,” Jason shouts over the music.

“Jay,” Tim says, wide eyed and gaping. “Her dress!”

Jason grins. “I know, isn’t it amazing?”

“It’s an R2-D2 dress!” Tim stares, in awe. And envy.

The girl laughs. “Cool, right? Your boyfriend here said you would like it. I wrote down where I got it for you.”


	89. Chapter 89

“This is the worst night of my life,” Jason groans, tugging at the sleeves of his tux and desperately avoiding eye contact with everyone, lest another old woman come over and choke him with perfume and pinch his cheeks (not his face).

“It could be worse,” Tim reasons, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth, spreading pink icing all over his lips that Jason wants to lick off.

Jason grins and says, “You’re right, I could be here without you,” and the eye roll he receives is truly impressive, he honestly didn’t know it was possible to compact so much exasperation and (somehow fond) disdain into one gesture.


	90. Chapter 90

“I’m not afraid of you,” Jason tells him- it, the thing coming from the darkness. (Him.) The darkness itself. He says it again, the words a shield that would take away the thing’s power, because isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? It has no power over you if you don’t let it. Confronted fears melt, are surpassable.

But the darkness only moves closer, faster, heavy and slick and filling his lungs with grit and painting his tongue in the taste of red. It whispers promises, temping things. Things that shouldn’t tempt him now (he’s okay now, he’s good now, he doesn’t want those things now) and Jason is horrified to find a piece, down, down deep that wants it. Craves.

 _Justice_ , the thing cloying his mind calls it. ( _Justice_ , Jason called it.)

Come and get it. (Go and take it.)

Want it. (Need it.)

Should have had it. (Do anything for it.)

Red. Red in his mouth, Red looking back at him from the shadows, unblinking. Red filling his vision, coating everything. And then there is no darkness, only Red, and Jason hates the way it feels (feels wonderful) around him, in him. Is him.

Then there is another Red. And this one says to him, “I’m not afraid of you,” and it isn’t a shield against him. It’s an invitation.


	91. Chapter 91

“Tim.”

“Jason.”

“You know when you do something stupid and afterwards you say, ‘you were right, Jay, I probably should have listened to you’?”

“I would never say that.”

“It’s in your eyes.”

Tim rolls said eyes. “I’m sure.”

“Anyway, this right here is one of those moments that future you will look back upon and say, ‘damn, my boyfriend was so wise and I should have listened to him.’”

“I won’t! It’s gonna be awesome, and you’ll be super impressed.”

“Honey, last time you tried this you broke your arm.”

“So what if I broke my arm, I’m still going to do it until I get it _right_.”

“You literally just got your cast off _yesterday_ , do you really want to go back to that?”

Tim shrugs. “If I do, you’ll take care of me again.”

“I won’t,” he insists.

“You will.”

Jason sighs, and it sounds fond, somehow. It’s supposed to be annoyed, or stressed, or. Something. He’ll think about that later. “Whatever. Just don’t die.”

“Sure thing, babe.”


	92. Chapter 92

Jason leans in and whispers, “You’re the prettiest. _Ever_.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Poison Ivy coos, sounding too much like an adoring aunt. “I didn’t know you two were together.”

“We aren’t,” Tim bites out, struggling against the vines that have him pinned to the wall.

Ivy gasps, “Goodness! Well, then you’ll have some talking to do I suppose.” Her grin is sharp as the thorns digging into Tim’s arms and legs.

“And the smartest,” Jason adds, completely ignoring their capture and their captor, in favor of staring at Tim. He tries to scoot closer, but the vines keep him just out of reach. That is, until they loosen and he’s suddenly in Tim’s space, making a happy little noise that Tim can’t imagine Jason’s ever made before.

Tim glares at the woman in front of them, and she smiles back.

“I’m an advocate for love, darling,” she says.

“Red Hood, listen to me.” Tim tries to keep eye contact with Jason but the man is too unfocused, gaze roaming Tim’s face and body. “This is just an affect of whatever Poison Ivy sprayed you with, okay? It’s not real. You don’t like me like that.”

“I do,” Jason pouts. “I did, and I do.”

“No,” Tim says, firm and loud. “And even if you did, you don’t want this. Like this.”

“I know what I want,” Jason breathes, and then he leans in and plants a sloppy kiss on Tim’s tightly shut lips.

“Shit,” Tim sighs, and he should be happy because he’s finally got his knife out and he cuts through the vines and he’s free, but he’s really not. Ivy is screaming, and Jason is trying to pull him back, closer, but Tim fights his grip and gets them both the hell out of there.

Jason goes for more kisses on the way back to the cave, but this time Tim is able to dodge them.

Ivy was right. They’ll have a lot to talk about in the morning.


	93. Chapter 93

There’s a dog in the cave.

A puppy, more like. It’s small, with sleek, dark brown fur, and it’s been watching Jason since he walked in two hours ago. It’s laying by the staircase, the perfect vantage point to keep an eye on everything going on in the cave. Jason’s never seen a dog around, one that isn’t Titus, and he’s pretty sure he would know if someone in the family had brought one home. He doesn’t know how it got here, or why, but there doesn’t seem to be any danger.

It’s also cute as fuck, so Jason has been staring at it right back. He tried to get some work done, but it’s hard when such an adorable creature is nearby. So distracting. It’s practically begging for attention (if staying perfectly still and looking a bit wary can be considered begging), unlike the boring stuff Jason is doing.

“That’s it,” Jason says, pushing himself back from the keyboard. Case notes can wait. “I can’t take it anymore. You’re getting pet.”

The dog sits up straight, ears swiveling forward and staying there, all of its attention right on Jason as he stands up and starts to walk over. He approaches carefully, holding out a hand for the dog to smell.

It doesn’t move for a long minute, then it slowly juts its snout forward to get a sniff. There’s no growling or barking or running away, so Jason figures it’s okay to take a step closer and go for pets. The dog seems to tolerate Jason’s hand on its back, neither leaning in to it, nor protesting. After a while Jason notices its tail will wag once, twice, before the dog realises it’s happening and stops.

Jason decides to make a bold move and pick up the dog, which earns a small surprised yelp and some squirming, but once it gets comfortable against Jason’s chest, it calms down.

“You’re so cute,” Jason tells the dog as he scratches behind its ears, and this time the tail wags freely. It’s progress, and Jason smiles. He’s always had a way with animals.

Five minutes later he’s snuggling the dog tightly, planting kisses all over its face, and cooing in soft tones about how precious it is. He gets licked on the nose.

“Oh, how freaking sweet,” someone says, and Jason turns around to find Dick standing there in old sweats and holding his _everybody loves dick_ mug in one hand, his phone in the other. He’s smiling wide and taking pictures. Or video, maybe.

“He is sweet,” Jason tells Dick and the camera.

Dick laughs.

The dog wiggles, trying to get away, and Jason frowns. “What happened? We were having such a nice time.”

“Were you now?” Jason doesn’t like Dick’s tone, and doesn’t know why him holding a dog is worthy of it or the pictures.

He sets the dog down on the floor and, much to his dismay, it runs away to hide under the batmobile. He turns his frown on Dick. “What did you do? It loved me before you walked in.”

“I’m sure he did,” Dick hums. He puts away his phone and walks toward the stairs to leave with a wave. “Bye, Jason. Zatanna will be here soon, Tim,” he calls.

The dog barks.


	94. Chapter 94

“You chopped them too much,” Jason says.

“I did not.” Tim points to his notes, to the words _finely chopped peppermint leaves_. “It says finely. This, Jason, is finely chopped.”

“That,” Jason points to the mess on Tim’s work station, “is pulverised.”

They only have two hours to complete the potion, and they spent the first one arguing about the order of ingredients. Now, with time running out, it’s compromise or fail.

(Failing is a near thing.)

“It’ll work,” Tim insists as he tosses in the bits of leaves. “Now the pearl dust, and then we’re done.”

Jason carefully measures out the dust and hesitantly holds it over the cauldron. “Before I put this in, I want it on record that I think we did this wrong and it’ll be all your fault when it blows up in our faces.”

“I’m like seventy five percent sure this won’t explode on us,” Tim says right as Jason pours in the last ingredient.

“Only _seventy five?_ ”

Both boys freeze, holding their breath and waiting for something to happen, possibly an explosion. After a minute when the mixture does nothing but bubble a little, they relax.

“Right.” Tim grins. “See? I was right.”

Jason scowls. “Haven’t seen that yet. It still probably won’t work at all.”

Tim ladles out a small portion and hands it to Jason. “Ready to fall in love with me?”

“Fuck,” Jason groans. “Of all the people to get partnered with for this, I got you. Such cruel fate.”

“I know,” Tim commiserates, only mostly mocking. “Now drink up.”

With a glance to the antidote sitting nearby, Jason knocks back the potion like a shot. He waits. “I knew you fucked it up,” he finally says, sounding torn between being happy that Tim messed up and angry that they won’t pass the assignment.

Tim frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t feel any different.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I would know if I were suddenly madly in love with you.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Would you?”

“For Merlin’s sake,” Jason snaps, “you try it.”

Tim does. He sighs. “I don’t feel different either.”

“Aha!”

Tim shakes his head. “I don’t understand. I’m certain it’s right. It’s the perfect color and consistency and everything.”

Jason bottles up the potion to turn in to Professor Wayne while Tim starts to clean up.

(Later, Professor Wayne will examine the potion and mark it as _excellent_.)


	95. Chapter 95

“Coffee,” Jason says, and Tim glances up from his laptop with a frown.

“What?”

“It’s coffee you’re craving,” Jason explains. “Go get some. And bring me some, you made me want it, too.”

Tim’s frown gets more drastic, and Jason is positive it’s either coffee that the kid needs or cake. Maybe both, with how wild his eyes are starting to look. Tim asks, “How did you know I was craving something?”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to frown. “You said it.”

“Said what?”

“That you wanted something, but didn’t know what it was.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Pretty sure you did.”

“Jason, I didn’t say anything.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Then how did I know?”

“I don’t know,” Tim huffs, “but frankly I’m a little concerned, because I’m positive I didn’t say that out loud.”

Yeah, Tim definitely needs some cake. Maybe a good fuck, too, he’s way on edge.

“Hey!” Tim protests, “Honestly, I wouldn’t say no to cake right now, but I’m not any more on edge that I usually am. Which isn’t that much!”

Jason stares.

Tim stares back.

“Shit,” Jason says, with feeling.

Tim jumps up and backs away from Jason, as if that’ll help anything. “I’m. I’m calling Bruce and Zatanna and _everyone_. We’ll find out how this happened and fix it, and in the mean time, just. Don’t think _anything_.”

He runs out of the room, panicky.

At the doorway Tim turns back. “I’m not panicking, asshole, this is a perfectly reasonable level of anticipation to have in a situation like this.”

Jason is going to get one of those triple layer cakes with cream cheese frosting. And the coffee, he still wants that.

Tim sighs. “Yes, please go get us some coffee.”


	96. Chapter 96

Tim is a damn fine actor, apparently, because two days ago Jason would have said he’s really into the show. At the least, mildly interested. 

He’d be wrong.

Jason sighs. “Stop projecting so much belligerent boredom. I love this show, and you’re ruining it for me.” 

The worst part of being bonded with Tim is that now Jason can’t enjoy Pretty Little Liars. 

“What do you want me to do,” Tim asks. “I already figured out who ‘A’ is.”

“You did not,” Jason scoffs. “And anyway, you can still enjoy it. There’s more than just that going on.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Yeah, all these people being complete idiots.”

“Not everyone has your masterful detective skills.” 

“It’s not even about figuring out who’s behind what, I’m talking about how they never shut the fucking curtains, even though they know they’re being stalked!”

“Really?” Jason asks, “That’s what you have a problem with?”

“For starters,” Tim tells him, and Jason can see the bullet points lining up behind Tim’s eyes, ready to fire. 

Jason pauses the show. This is just getting started.


	97. Chapter 97

The Red Bird flew into the cave at top speed, squealing to a stop at the last moment and leaving tire tracks on the ground and the smell of burnt rubber in the air. The door opened and Red Robin jumped out of the car. He held something in his hands, cradled close to his chest, as he ran to the workstation, ignoring the startled looks from Dick and Bruce.

As Tim gently set something down on the table top and grabbed various tools, Jason climbed out of the car (after turning off the engine, which Tim had neglected to do).

“What?” Dick asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason sighed, waving away his concerns.

“No!” Tim yelped from where he was bent over the table, waiting for the soldering gun to heat up.

Bruce paused in his typing.

Dick inched closer. “Tim,” he said in a soft voice, “what’s wrong?”

Tim shot Dick a wide-eyed glance. “It’s Betty.”

“Betty?”

“His bo staff,” Jason supplied.

Bruce started typing again.

Tim picked up the soldering gun and got to work.

Dick sighed. “Really, Tim? You scared me for a minute there.”

“Hey!” Tim looked up and pinned Dick with a glare and a pointed finger. “How would you feel if one of your escrima sticks snapped in half?”

“My escrima sticks don’t break,” Dick replied, crossing his arms with a smug grin and walking back to the equipment check he was doing before.

“I could test that for you,” Tim mumbled and went back to caring for Betty.

Jason planted himself next to Tim. “We need to talk.”

“Later.”

“It’s important.”

“So it this.”

“Dammit, Tim!” Jason yelled. “ _You’re_ important!”

Dick paused, his uniform hanging from his fingers.

Slowly, Tim set down his staff and turned to face Jason. “What should I have done, huh? Let you die?”

Bruce’s typing stopped again.

“You shouldn’t have jumped into it like that, he almost took your head clean off.”

“But he didn’t,” Tim said calmly. “And if I hadn’t, it would have been _your_ head.”

“I don’t care, okay? You can’t throw yourself away like that! I don’t matter more than you!”

“Jason, you would have done the exact same thing. Right?”

“Yes.”

Tim set his hands on Jason’s chest. “Then you understand why I did, and why I always will.”

“I’m not-” Jason swallowed, looking at Tim’s hands. He set his own on top, clutching hard. “It was too close. You almost…”

“Yeah. So did you.” Tim stepped closer, and Jason bowed down to rest his forehead against Tim’s. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Jason smiled, a small, shaky thing. “I’m sorry Betty broke.”

Tim smiled back, and pushed up into a kiss. “You can help me fix her,” he said as he stepped back.

“Okay.” Jason nodded and picked up the soldering gun with a grin. “I’m better at this than you, anyway.”

Bruce started typing. Again.


	98. Chapter 98

Tim’s wrist itches, and he pulls back the sleeve of his worn jacket to find a mark there, like a tattoo, pretty and sudden and he knows what it means, logically, but who… and then Robin- the new one- swings past, just a couple feet from where Tim is crouched on a rooftop, camera in hand, which he raises just in time to snap a picture.

~

Tim watches from behind a tall oak tree wide enough to keep him hidden from the three men on the hill, the ones lowering a casket into the ground as his wrist burns, and he wonders when it will stop, and he wonders if he’ll ever know what really happened, and he wonders if it’s easier this way, that they never even got the chance to talk.

~

Tim knows he’s there before he speaks, feels the itch on his wrist for the second time in his life, an experience no one else can relate to, no one else but the man behind him, angry and spiteful and scared and lashing out at Tim because maybe Tim is a reminder of his humanity, of the part of him that is capable of love, the part he thought was lost- the part he _wants_ to think is gone, but Tim can feel that too, along with the itch, something earnest and bright, somewhere.


	99. Chapter 99

“I think…” Jason licks his dry lips, imagines the possibilities and tries to sort out how he feels about everything, about saying it out loud, about admitting, “bottom.”

Tim’s eyebrows flick up, but in good way, Jason thinks- hopes- and says, “Okay, I’ll be on top then, if you’re sure?”

Jason nods, and Tim smiles, and then he tosses his pack onto the top bunk and pulls himself up the ladder.


	100. Chapter 100

“I got another one,” Tim announces to the table as he sits, holding up a card to show his friends. There’s a poem written inside, something from Shakespeare, Tim thinks, and signed, _In Love, Endlessly_ , but he doesn’t show them that part, and feels his cheeks go red and he smiles even as he asks, “Who would want to give these to _me_?”

Jason stands abruptly and mutters something about being late to algebra, which makes Tim frown as the boy leaves the cafeteria because their lunch period won’t be over for another twenty minutes at least, and when he mentions as much to the rest of his friends, they look at him like he’s an idiot.


	101. Chapter 101

“Do you hate me too?” Jason asks, peering into the large, adoring eyes of the puppy in his arms.

“I don’t _hate_ you, you melodramatic ass!” Tim paces, eight steps toward the kitchen, eight steps toward the door. Repeat. Socked feet creating static against the rug.

The dog squirms, so Jason settles it more firmly in his lap, strokes down the ruffled fur of its back. Wishes he could pet down Tim’s ruffled feathers the same way. Maybe later. “Kinda seems like it, with all the yelling.”

“I’m not!- I’m not yelling,” Tim corrects, voice lower but still stressed. He stops, finally, and faces the couch, faces Jason and the dog, who he’s not let himself look at for too long until now. “Just a little freaked out, okay? This is. This is a bad idea.”

Jason doesn’t let that sting as badly as it could, holds back his initial reaction (insult, anger, scream and leave). It’s something he can do when Tim is the one upset. When Jason is the one in that moment capable and willing to stay calm and fix this. It’s novel. He asks, “Why?” and hopes.

Tim runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just not, okay? I can’t. I can’t take care of her like she needs; I don’t even remember to feed myself some days, I should not be in charge of feeding another life form. And I won’t push all of the responsibility on you.”

Jason relaxes. It’s not about him. Them. It’s not about what it means for them to do this together. Tim isn’t scared of the idea of committing to Jason, just the puppy. “Tim, I really think it’ll be fine. I don’t mind doing most of the work here.” He smiles. “Besides, I’m sure you can program an automatic feeder.”

Tim tilts his head. “That’s true. But I can’t always give her attention or whatever. You know how I am, I get sucked into work and don’t see anything around me for three days.”

“I’ll give her more than enough lovin’.” He accentuates the claim by holding the puppy up to his face and nuzzling her snout, earning a wet little kiss. “And she won’t care. You give me enough affection, on the whole, it’ll be good enough for her too.”

“Are you sure?” Tim asks, brittle, but hopeful.

“Positive.” He turns the dog around and holds her out. Tim hesitates, and then takes a half-step closer. “How can you resist this precious thing?”

Slowly, Tim reaches out to scratch behind a fluffy ear. “I guess I can’t.”

Jason grins triumphantly.

“Don’t be too happy,” Tim warns him, “I still haven’t forgiven you for springing this on me.” He takes the dog away, cuddles her against his chest, and walks out of the room. “You get to cook us dinner while I come up with a name… What about Titus 2.0, you think that would piss off Damian?”


	102. Chapter 102

“It’ll be good for you,” Jack promises, hand on Tim’s shoulder in a way that’s probably meant to be comforting. What would really be comforting right now is to not be abandoned in this place. 

“I don’t need this, Dad,” Tim argues, but he knows it’s futile. It’s already done. The paperwork was signed, money changed hands. Tim’s fate (for the next nine months) has been sealed. 

Jack gives a pained smile and takes back his hand, offers it to Mr. Wayne to shake. And then he leaves. Leaves Tim at the Gotham Military Institute.

And all just because Tim hacked into the GCPD server. (It didn’t matter to Jack that it was for a good reason. Stephanie needed help, and Tim is a good friend.) 

“Come on,” Bruce Wayne says, making for the door. “Let’s get you set up.”

Dragging his feet (mostly because he knows he won’t have the opportunity to do so for a long time), Tim follows the man into a courtyard where there are lines of boys. Perfectly straight lines, moving in tandem as they practice marching. Or something. They have fake rifles over their shoulders. How throwing around fake guns in tempo will make him rethink his life choices, Tim wants to know. 

“Todd!” Wayne bellows, and one of the boys breaks the line to jog over. Like the rest, he’s wearing a t-shirt and cargo pants and boots. (He wears it better than the rest. A lot better.)

“Sir.” Todd snaps off a salute. Somehow, even though it’s technically perfect, Tim gets the impression it’s also mocking. 

“This is Tim Drake. He’s your responsibility for the next week.”

And fuck. Tim is in trouble if he has to spend quality time with this guy all week, because just standing in front of him, Tim’s hands are getting kinda sweaty and he’s sure he couldn’t say his own name properly. 

Todd looks at Tim, eyes him from foot to hair, slowly, while Tim melts inside. Holds out a hand. “Jason Todd.”

Tim reaches out, takes a step closer, and falls. 

Trips over his own shoelace. 

He never hits the ground, though. Instead, he finds Jason’s arms (big and muscled) around him. He feels laughter vibrating under his hands that are braced against Jason’s chest. It’s a very nice chest, from what he can feel though the shirt. 

“You okay?” Jason asks. 

“Yup.” Tim swallows. Coughs. “Yeah, I’m cool. Totally cool.”

“So I can let go of you now?”

“If you want,” Tim says, but he’s not actually sure his legs would hold him up if that happened. 

“Well I don’t really want to, but I probably should,” Jason says regretfully. He smiles, and Tim thinks he won’t mind the next nine months that much.


	103. Chapter 103

“How-” Tim wheezes, clutching his sides, eyes watering, “how do you even mess that up?”

Jason rubs at his forehead where it had smacked into the wall on his way down. It doesn’t hurt too bad, though. Not as much as his wounded pride.

“Was the wall _slippery?_ ” Tim asks through his laughter. “Do I need to put up a hazard sign?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles. Not his best come back, but he can’t think of anything better. Not while he’s slumped on the floor with a bruised ass and ego.

Tim wipes tears from his eyes. “Hoo, boy, that was great. Really, highlight of my week.”

“It’s not _that_ funny,” Jason tries, but it was. At least, it would be to someone other than him.

“It was,” Tim assures him. “And the part before it was good, too. I’ve never been _leaned on_ like that before.”

Jason pulls himself up and pastes on a grin. “You liked that? I’d be happy to do it again, babybird.”

“Without the falling, this time?” Tim asks with a pointedly raised eyebrow.

“Can’t promise that. I’m always falling for you.”

Tim groans, “Get the hell out of here,” but he’s smiling as he pushes Jason away.


	104. Chapter 104

“ _Fuck_ me,” Tim says, groans, _whines_ , tearing at Jason’s clothes, pulling Jason up against himself. “Come on, Jay. Come _on_.”

Jason looks down at him, at Tim’s frantic, wide eyes and shaking hands. He steps back. “No.”

“What?” Tim reaches for him, snags the edge of Jason’s shirt and fists it tight. Desperate.

Gently, Jason pries Tim’s hand away, but keeps it in his own. He uses the hold to pull Tim over to the bed. “Not like that.”

“Not… not against the wall? That’s fine.” Tim jumps onto the blankets and tries to tug Jason close again, diving for his mouth with sharp teeth.

“No,” Jason tells him softly, keeping Tim at a careful distance. He sits on the bed, leans against the headboard with his legs making a V in front of him.

“Come here,” he says, and Tim slides over eagerly, climbing into Jason’s lap. Jason strips off Tim’s clothes, meeting the frenzied kisses with slow, firm presses of his lips. He turns Tim around to sit between his legs, pulls him to lean back so he’s resting against Jason’s chest.

“What are you doing,” Tim asks, squirming.

Jason runs his hands up Tim’s arms, over his chest, down his sides, along his thighs, everywhere he can reach until Tim settles into him. He places gentle kisses on Tim’s shoulder. “What you need right now.”

He takes Tim’s cock in his hand and moves slowly, wrapping his other arm around Tim’s middle to hold him down, keep him from fucking up into his hand. Tim still tries, hips shifting in jerky little movements.

“Faster,” he pleads, nails digging into Jason’s legs. “Please, Jason. I _need_ …”

“You’re okay, Tim,” Jason says softly, low in his ear. He doesn’t speed up. “You’re safe. Everyone is fine.”

“I- I know that.”

“I’m here.” Jason accentuates with a squeeze, and Tim gasps. “You’re here, and I’m here, and we’re both okay.”

Tim drops his head onto Jason’s shoulder and turns his face into Jason’s neck, breaths coming quick and choppy against his skin.

Jason says, “I love you,” and Tim melts into him.

Jason says, “I’m not going anywhere,” and Tim whines.

Jason keeps talking, and Tim stops jerking, loosens his hold on Jason’s legs, closes his eyes and pants out little content noises until he comes over Jason’s fingers.

He lays there, and Jason rubs his skin with his clean hand. Kisses his cheek.

“Thank you,” Tim sighs.


	105. Chapter 105

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought it was a one-night-stand… and now we’re married…”

Jason grabs Tim’s hand and unceremoniously shoves a gold ring on his finger. 

It matches the one on Jason’s own. 

“Um.” Tim stares at it, shiny and thick and heavy. “I feel like we should have talked about this. Or, you know. Gone on a date first?”

“No time,” Jason says, straightening his tie. “The appointment is in an hour. Get ready.”

“What appointment?”

“At the adoption agency.” Jason brushes past into Tim’s bedroom and starts pulling things from the closet. He holds up a bright green button-down and frowns. “Is this the nicest thing you’ve got?”

“All of my formal clothes are at the manor. Alfred doesn’t trust me to keep them,” Tim answers absently, still struggling to compute the past few minutes. 

Jason sighs. “Okay, it’ll have to do. Hopefully they won’t care about your horrible fashion sense. That’s not, like, a requirement of good parenting, right?”

Jason tosses the shirt at Tim, who catches it on instinct. 

“Jay.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you stop rifling though my pants for a minute and talk to me?”

“No. Here, put these on.” Jason throws a pair of slacks. “Hurry up.”

Tim stands there for a moment, holding the clothes and rubbing the ring on his finger with his thumb. It’s cool and smooth. 

“Fine. But explain while I’m getting dressed.”

Jason sits on the bed while Tim slips off his basketball shorts. Jason doesn’t look away, but he keeps his eyes on Tim’s face. “Okay, so, there’s this kid. Toni. I met her on patrol a few nights ago. She snatched a hot dog from my favorite food cart.”

“Randolph’s?” Tim asks, zipping up his pants. 

“Yeah. She was good, he didn’t even notice. But I did, and I started talking to her. She’s a street kid.”

Tim slides his arms though the shirt. “Parents?”

Jason’s eyes go unfocused, and he’s not really watching Tim anymore. “Gone, or near enough. She’s in the system. Has a foster home, but didn’t stick around.

“She’s pretty cool, though,” he says, and now he’s back in the room with Tim. He grins. “I offered to buy her more food, and she said she would feed me my own dick if I tried anything.”

He laughs, but it’s undercut with something sharp, and sad. Tim knows what he’s thinking. What Toni must have been though to have that answer ready. 

“Anyway, I.” Jason shrugs. Coughs. “I wanted to. Give her a safe place.”

Tim watches Jason, picking at a loose thread on his blanket and avoiding Tim’s eyes, and he feels… proud. And sad. And something warm, twisting through his stomach. 

“That’s why you’re going to the adoption agency.”

Jason nods. 

“So then why am I going with you?”

“Well.” Jason scratches his cheek. “It would work out better, you know? Single parent with a sketchy history versus a married couple, one of them being one of the most well-known and respected business men in Gotham.”

“But we’re… Not. I’m just…”

“I know.” Jason meets Tim’s eyes, pleading. “I’m not expecting anything from you. I’m not even asking. I mean, we hooked up one time, of course I don’t expect you to be some kid’s father just because I am. It’s just for today, or until the papers go through.”

“I thought it was a one-night-stand…” Tim says, “And now we’re married…” 

“It’s not real though,” Jason rushes to say. “I forged the documents. It’s all a lie.” 

Tim laughs. “You’re gonna make a great dad.”

“So.. that’s a yes?”

Tim grabs his only tie and slips it around his neck. “Help me with this?”

Letting out a deep, relieved breath, Jason stands and knots Tim’s tie. “Thank you,” he says softly. 

“You’re welcome. But I’m not just doing this for you.”

“Oh yeah?”

Tim smiles. “Now I get to make fun of you.”

“For what?” Jason asks as he finishes. 

“For being the first to pull a Bruce,” Tim calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room.

“Fucking hell,” Jason whines, “can we please not call it that?”


	106. Chapter 106

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Frost the damn cupcakes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the last drabble, in a verse in which Jason adopts a little girl, Toni.

“Nice apron.”

Jason carefully sets the hot cupcake pan on a trivet and nudges shut the oven door with his foot. “Thanks.”

“Let me guess,” Tim says, leaning against the counter nearby, “Toni picked it out?”

“Quite the detective you are, dear.”

The apron in question says, _~~Kiss the cook!~~ Leave the cook alone before you get smacked with a ladle_.

“So what’s up,” Jason asks, slipping off the oven mitt. “Did we have plans today?”

Tim sniffs the cooling cupcakes appreciatively. “No. A little birdie told me I should come by. And look-y here, I found cupcakes.”

“They’re not for you,” Jason says, lightly smacking Tim away. “They’re for school. An honest to fuck bake sale. I didn’t think those actually happened.”

“Can I help?”

Jason narrows his eyes, regarding Tim with suspicion. “You just want to eat them. You’re gonna sneak them when I’m not looking.”

“Well. I might. One or two,” Tim confesses, because they both understand each other too well for him to try to lie. “But I really do want to help.”

“…Fine. Here.” Jason passes over a tray of cupcakes that have already cooled, and a bowl of purple frosting.

“Cool, cool. Does this mean you’re gonna look the other way while I eat this?” Tim asks, peeling back the paper of a chocolate cake.

Jason grimaces. “Yes, because you’re a disgusting savage about it.”

“You think it’th thexy,” Tim mumbles around a mouthful.

“Just frost the damn cupcakes.”

Tim swallows. “You should eat one too. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I feel fine.”

“Sure. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jason picks up another bowl of frosting, this one blue, and beats it with a whisk. Even though it’s already smooth.

“Bullshit,” Tim and Toni say at the same time as she walks into the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Tim.” The ten year-old climbs up on a bar stool and levels Jason with a flat look. “Talk to your boyfriend, Jason. I got him over here for you, now let him fix whatever pissed you off.”

“First of all,” Jason says, pointing at his daughter with the whisk, “language. Second, I don’t need anyone to fix my problems for me. Even Tim. And what do you mean you got him over here?”

“She texted me.”

Toni says, “You were mixing the cake batter like it was a criminal, and talking to yourself.”

“Was not!”

“Totally were, you weirdo,” she shoots back.

“Jason,” Tim sighs, “just tell us what’s bothering you.”

“Fine!” Jason throws his hands up, but he’s still holding the whisk and blue frosting splatters across the counter. “I’m nervous, okay? The other PTA moms are gonna be judging me, and those women don’t think I can handle raising Toni by myself. So I’m gonna show them that I can handle this! They’ll eat my perfect cupcakes and their words.”

“Honey, I’m sure they’re not-”

“They are, Tim. I can see it on their faces.”

“Okay.” Tim wants to wrap Jason in a hug, but now’s not a good time for that, he can tell. “Okay, so we’re going to make the most perfect cupcakes ever. You used Alfred’s recipe?”

“Of course.”

“Well, then they’ll be the best thing at that bake sale,” Tim says, and Jason relaxes a fraction. “Now let’s make them all pretty. You want to help, Toni?”

“Yeah,” the girl says, taking the blue frosting away from Jason. He lets her.

Tim says, “It’ll be okay, Jay. What those women think doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right,” Jason sighs. “I know. It’s just. I don’t want to mess this up, you know?” And he’s talking to Tim, but looking at Toni.

“I know. But you’re doing just fine.”

“Thank you, Tim.” Jason picks up the now cool pan and turns it over, popping out the next batch of cupcakes. “I kind of hope Brenda chokes on these.”


	107. Chapter 107

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hold my hand so he gets jealous" somehow mixed with "Ew, your hand is sweaty.”

“There he is,” Jason sighs wistfully. 

Dick wishes he could snap a picture of that face. He follows Jason’s line of sight to the ice cream shop. There are two workers behind the counter. “Which one?”

“The ridiculously pretty one.”

“They’re both pretty.”

Jason gives Dick an incredulous look. “With the black hair.”

“Oh! Of course,” Dick says quickly. “Yes, he’s obviously way prettier.”

“Right,” Jason nods, mollified. “Okay. Hold my hand so he gets jealous.”

“That is so stupid, Jay. Just ask him out.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

Jason just shakes his head. 

“Fine,” Dick sighs, and grabs Jason’s hand. “Ew, your hand is sweaty.” 

“Yeah, that happens when I’m around Tim. Or when I think about him.”

“Do you hear yourself?”

“Yes,” Jason says pitifully. “I’m a huge dork, now let’s go.”

They walk into the ice cream shop, and Tim smiles at them in greeting. 

Dick squeaks from how hard Jason suddenly squeezes his hand. 

“Hey, Jason,” Tim says, and Dick shoots Jason a glance because, “He knows your name?”

Tim laughs. “Yeah, he comes in here all the time.”

“I just really love ice cream,” Jason croaks. 

“Sure you do, pal,” Dick says, biting back a laugh.

Tim looks down, then, at their hands clasped between them. “Oh.”

“What?” Jason asks. 

“I didn’t know…” Tim shrugs. He wipes down the counter, not looking at them. “I thought you were single, is all.”

“He is!” Dick says. “Single, that is.” 

Tim glances at their hands, and Dick quickly shakes out of the hold. 

“What are you doing?” Jason hisses. 

“Getting you the guy,” Dick answers, and he pushes Jason forward. To Tim he says, “We’re brothers. I’m Dick, and Jason is an idiot but he likes you.”

“Um.” Tim blinks at them. “He does?”

Jason doesn’t answer, just stares at the floor while his face flushes pink.

Dick says, “He only comes in here to see you.”

“Really?” Tim asks, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. 

“Really, really,” Dick leans in with a grin and says, “He’s lactose intolerant.”


	108. Chapter 108

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You did not just wake me up at two a.m. because you were in the mood.”

Jason wakes to something tickling his toes, and he kicks out before he fully realises what he’s kicking at.

Luckily, Tim is faster than Jason’s sleep-addled reflexes, and dodges out of the way.

“Woah, sweetheart, it’s just me!”

“What the hell, Tim?”

“Sorry,” Tim says, flopping down next to Jason on the bed. “You were really out of it. That was not the first body part I tickled.”

Jason sighs and props himself up on his elbows. “What time is it?”

“Almost two.”

“Why are you tickling me awake in the middle of the night?” he asks, voice thick and rough from sleep.

“Well…” Tim snakes his hand across Jason’s waist and pulls himself closer.

Jason drops back onto his pillow. “You did _not_ just wake me up at two a.m. because you were in the mood.”

“Of course not,” Tim says. “That would be rude. Or something.”

“Babe, remember when we had that conversation about boundaries?”

“Like it was yesterday.”

“It _was_ yesterday.”

“Technically, the day before yesterday now,” Tim points out. His hand sneaks underneath Jason’s shirt, pets the hair on his belly.

“Do you happen to recall that part where you sometimes have to wait for things?”

Tim nuzzles into the curve of Jason’s neck, breath hot against his skin. “I thought that was just because I asked you to get me a milkshake while you were working.”

“It was. But the principle lesson is transferable.”

“Mm. Noted.”

“So you have to wait-” Jason’s voice catches as Tim nibbles on his earlobe. “Wait for things. When I’m working. Or sleeping.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jason breathes, arching into the hand on his thigh. “So you need to stop doing that.”

Tim pulls back. “You want me to stop?”

“Um.” Jason swallows. “Well, I just meant in a general way. Not, like, right now. You can keep going.”

Tim moves on top of Jason. “You sure?”

“Yup. Very sure.”

“Because I could let you get back to sleep,” Tim says with a roll of his hips. “If you want.”

Jason rests one hand on Tim’s back, feeling the way his muscles move, the other on his ass. “No, no, no, this is fine.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you, or anything.” Tim takes Jason’s hands and pins them to the bed.

“Oh, fuck, not a bother at all,” Jason whines, lifting his hips to try and get more, but Tim holds himself up so there’s minimal contact between them.

Jason growls.

Tim grins.

“Well, okay,” Tim says, and he leans down. Leaves a light kiss on Jason’s lips. “If you insist.”


	109. Chapter 109

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The skirt is supposed to be that short."

Jason examines himself in the full-length mirror, turning this way and that. “I look like an idiot.”

“You don’t,” Tim says, but it doesn’t seem to help much.

“Fuck, why did I agree to this?” Jason groans, running his fingers through long, honey blonde hair. He frowns at Tim. “Why did you let me?”

“You wanted to do it, Jason.”

“Who the hell thought it would be a good idea for me to be the girl?”

“Jay, it’s fine.”

“You’re the one that usually goes undercover for this kind of stuff. You should be doing this, Tim!”

“You look hot!” Tim yells, and Jason stills. Finally meets his eyes in the reflection.

“What?”

“You don’t need to be so worried,” Tim says, and he can feel his face going red but he forces himself not to break eye contact. “You- it all looks really good.”

“…It does?”

Jason looks at himself again, at his pink lips and thick eye liner. At the fluffy, over-sized sweater that hangs past his fingertips. The tight, black skirt peeking out from underneath the sweater, and the tights and the boots.

Tim looks too.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s. Great.”

Jason tugs on the bottom of the skirt. “Are you sure? This is really short.” 

“The skirt is supposed to be that short. Just… don’t bend over.”

Jason laughs.


	110. Chapter 110

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don’t care if you’re 4 or 40, you don’t hit people."

“Well,” Dick announces, his voice echoing through the cave, “it’s Jason.”

Tim asks, “You’re positive?” and feels something in his chest go tight when Dick nods and pulls up the test results on the big screen.

“No doubt about it.”

“Fuck,” Tim sighs heavily, and covers his face with his hands. He stays like that until he feels a slight tug on his pant leg, and looks down at the tiny face looking back at him.

“I’m hungry,” Jason says. His voice is small. His hands are small. He’s…

Small.

“Okay.” Tim pulls himself together. A little bit. Enough. He’s been dealing with freaky and unexpected situations for twenty-five years, ever since the day he put on the Robin suit, he can handle this. Probably. “How about we go up to the kitchen and find something to eat, huh, buddy?”

Jason nods. After a moment of hesitation he raises his arms up, and it takes a minute for Tim to realise what it means. Then he gets it, looking at Jason’s hopeful expression, and bends down to pick up the boy, who settles onto Tim’s hip with a smile.

“Damn that’s cute,” Dick says, grinning, the expression showing the wrinkles around the man’s eyes.

“Yeah? Make sure to get lots of good pictures. Jay will want to see how adorable he was later.”

Because there _will be_ a later. They _will_ fix this.

Tim carries Jason upstairs and sets him down at the table. He goes to the fridge and pulls out sandwich supplies, and when he turns around Jason is right there next to him. Tim has to smile. Jason hasn’t left Tim’s side since they found him. He wouldn’t even submit to Dick’s tests until Tim held his hand and told him it was fine, and that he should let the man swab his mouth, he won’t hurt Jason.

Jason had looked at Tim and asked, “You won’t let him do anything bad?”

And Tim’s heart had broken a little while he smiled gently and said, “I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

Jason follows Tim around the kitchen as he makes their snack, always within touching distance.

As Tim is putting the final touches on the sandwiches, Damian enters through the swinging door.

“Hey, Damian.”

“Drake.” The man spots the food, and his eyebrow quirks in interest.

“No,” Tim says, preemptively. “Make your own.”

“You have two there,” Damian points out, voice the epitome of reason.

“One is for Jason.”

Damian lets out a disappointed huff. “Ah. And where is your beloved?”

Tim realises Damian come in from the other end of the room, and the island is between them, so he can’t Jason standing next to Tim, too short to be seen over the counter.

“He’s here,” Tim answers, motioning to his left.

Damian gives Tim a strange look. “Are you certain of that?”

Tim also realises that Damian doesn’t yet know what happened.

“I fear you may be delusional,” Damian says, “although I suppose it was only a matter of time. I’m not surprised, really.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “I’m not, Jason is-”

“What the-” Damian yelps, looking down incredulously. He glances toward Tim again. “Drake, there is a child attacking me.”

Tim rushes over to the other side of the counter and, sure enough, there’s Jason, stomping on Damian’s foot.

“Jason!”

The boy looks up, angry down to his little clenched fists.

“Jason?” Damian echoes, somewhat in disbelief.

Tim picks up Jason and sets him on the counter. He gives him a stern look. “Why did you do that?”

“He was mean to you,” comes the reply, and his voice is not quite so small anymore.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Tim says. “I appreciate it, I guess. But –”

“It’s alright,” Damian says. “It didn’t hurt, and he is… only a child?”

Tim spares him a nod. “Yeah, I’ll explain it later.” He focuses on Jason again. “But I don’t care if you’re four or forty, you don’t hit people. Not unless it’s in self-defence.”

“Or you’re a vigilante,” Damian supplies.

“Well that doesn’t really apply to this moment, but yes.”

“Your entire argument ‘doesn’t really apply’ to Todd,” Damian returns. “I’m certain he hits people fairly indiscriminately.”

Tim sighs and turns around. “I’m trying to teach a valuable life lesson to an impressionable child here. Can you please not undermine my authority?”

“Given the child in question, I believe your life lessons will not be headed. But do try,” Damian adds with an amused smile.

“Whatever,” Tim grumbles, facing Jason again to find the boy watching them, apparently greatly entertained and munching away on one of the sandwiches. There’s a glob of strawberry jelly on his cheek.

“Whatever,” Tim says again, because Jason won’t be like this for much longer, and Tim is more interested in spoiling the kid rotten while he has the chance. “Jason, do you want to eat a bunch of junk food and watch some cartoons?”


	111. Chapter 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy."

Tim watched Red Hood walking through the front doors of Gotham General. Again. 

Every Wednesday and Sunday afternoon, Jason went into the hospital, stayed for two hours, and walked out, usually with a smile on his face. 

As far as Tim knew, Jason Todd hadn’t smiled since… Well. Before. Not that Tim had seen, at least. 

So he was curious enough and smart enough to follow Jason inside. Always keep tabs on possible threats, right? And who knew what Jason could be up to on there. Tim didn’t, and he needed to. 

He slipped in behind a pair of nurses coming back from their lunch break, keeping a steady pace at a careful distance from Jason. He was in disguise (not his favorite, but being Caroline Hill was a tried and true way to navigate the hospital) but he stayed back anyway. Until Jason stepped into the elevator, and Tim was forced to stand fairly close by. But he checked the fake paperwork in his hand and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind his ear, and Jason didn’t even glance over. 

At the fifth floor Jason exited, and Tim followed, along with one other doctor and a middle-aged woman. Jason took the hall on the left, then turned right, and finally stopped at an open door. From his position down the hall, Tim watched as Jason smiled and stepped inside the room. 

Tim waited a few minutes, and then quietly walked over. He peeked through the doorway.

And saw Jason Todd playing with a dozen kids. 

The man was sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by toys and books and teddy bears and children in hospital gowns. 

“Okay!” Jason clapped his hands, even though he already had the attention of every little pair of eyes in the room. “What do y’all wanna play today?”

Then came a chorus of various suggestions, cries of, “Horsey!” and “Goldilocks!” and “Superheros!” 

At that last one, Jason lit up. He pointed to the boy who’d said it. “Ronnie, yes! Superheros- great idea. I always liked you best, Ronnie.” 

All the kids laughed. 

“What superheros do you want to be?”

“Wonder Woman!” one girl said.

Another cried, “The Flash!”

Ronnie said, “I wanna be the bad guy.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “Oh really?”

“Just for the game,” the boy assured. “What will you be, Jason?”

“Well that’s easy,” Jason said. “Superman. He’s the best. Right, Replacement?”

Jason looked over to the door, right at Tim. 

Tim hesitated, and Jason just watched him, a half smile in place but eyes wary. 

Tim coughed. Stepped into the room. “I don’t know, what about Batman?”

Jason rolled eyes. “Funny girl.”

“I like Batman,” Ronnie said. 

“You’re not my favorite anymore,” Jason told him, poking his stomach and earning a giggle. 

“Besides,” Tim said, “everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

Jason looked at his lap for a moment, then met Tim’s eyes slowly. “Not here, I’m not.” He glanced at Ronnie, at the redheaded girl that wanted to play Wonder Woman. “Here, I get to be Superman.”


	112. Chapter 112

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s my shirt. So is that… wait?” + “You look pretty hot in plaid.”

“That’s my shirt,” Jason said, like that’s what was important. 

It wasn’t. Not at all. Not compared to the part where Tim was mostly naked, aside from Jason’s shirt, the buttons undone and his pale chest peeking through. 

Jason’s shirt.

On naked Tim. 

Pulling his eyes away from Tim (naked- his mind screamed, again), Jason’s attention caught on his bed. “So is that,” he said, pointing. “Wait- why do you have a bunch of my clothes out?”

Tim shrugged, the movement lifting one side of the open shirt, showing more of his belly. “I’m trying them on.”

“Why? They won’t fit.” Obviously. Because Jason was huge and Tim was. Not. The sleeves hung past his fingertips, and the tail was at mid-thigh. 

“I was bored.” Tim slipped the shirt off and flung it onto the bed with the others, and Jason’s hand twitched, either to grab it and hang it back up properly, or to grab Tim, now completely naked. Tim picked up another, well-worn green and black plaid. It was even larger than the first, and swallowed him up. He hummed, a little smile tugging up one side of his lips. “Comfy.”

“Bored,” Jason said- whispered, really. Comfy. Tim sure did look comfortable. 

“You left me here all alone for two days, honey. Yes, I got bored.”

“What are you, a cat? Did I not leave enough toys and snacks out?” Jason heard himself ask distantly, proud that his sarcasm could always be relied upon, even when the rest of his brain wasn’t working. 

“That reminds me, I finished all the pop-tarts.”

“I’ll get you more later.”

Tim smiled. “Thanks.”

“You look really hot in plaid,” Jason said. “Or, you know. My clothes.”

“Oh yeah?” Tim smiled again, and he had looked more happy about the prospect of pop-tarts than being complimented. Still happy though. Perfectly pleased. He just really loved pop-tarts. And didn’t care that much about being attractive. 

Jason looked away. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Tim said. 

“What?”

“You’re allowed to look.”

He did, but still asked, “You sure?”

Tim smiled, again, this one softer on one side and sharper on the other, and took a step closer. “You can touch, even.”

Jason slid his hands between the fabric, gently feeling the slight curve of Tim’s waist. “Anything else I’m allowed to do?”

Tim took Jason by the chin, pulled him down until Tim could give him a slow kiss. “Plenty.”


	113. Chapter 113

“Are you ready, contestants? Then here we go for the final round. Team number one.” Barbara reads off her cue card, “What is your partner’s favorite place to catch a criminal?”

Bruce holds up his whiteboard that says, _the docks_ , and Cass rolls her eyes.

Stephanie lets out a pained groan. “Are you kidding me, old man? You think she likes to spend time in a place that smells like dead fish? Obviously the correct answer is,” Steph says right as Cass shows her own board, “In front of the police precinct.”

Damian shakes his head as he munches on popcorn. “Really, Father. Anyone would have known.”

“Team number two,” Barbara prompts. “Same question.”

“Okay, I got this,” Dick says. He presents his answer, “The playground off thirty-second street.”

“Alright!” Steph cheers, and she high-fives Dick.

Bruce’s eyebrows draw down a millimeter, maybe in irritation that he’s clearly losing, but probably in confusion about why Stephanie would like to fight crime at playgrounds. The fact that he doesn’t know just shows how very lame he is.

Barbara adds a tally mark next to their names on her score-sheet. “One last point for team number two. Team three, what’s your answer?”

Jason holds up his board. It says, “Food.”

“Um, Jay, that’s not really an answer,” Dick says.

Jason just grins while Tim turns around his own whiteboard. Which reads, _food_.

“What?” Bruce asks, that irritation finally showing in his voice.

“He likes to stop crimes at restaurants because then the managers insist on giving him free food,” Jason explains.

“And yet another point for team three,” Barbara says, marking off another point. She holds up the sheet. “And the winners are Jason and Tim.”

“ _What?_ ” Bruce asks again. “How? Why?”

“It makes sense,” Damian says, finishing off the rest of his popcorn. “They’re both pathetically obsessed with each other.”

Jason coughs and looks away.

“Next time we’re choosing our own teams,” Stephanie says. “None of this random pairing bullshit. Cass and I are going to kick ass. Even Jason and Tim’s.”

Dick grins, watching Tim slowly inching further away from Jason. “I don’t know, they got every answer right. How can you beat that?”

Cass smiles. “Can’t beat true love.”

Jason sputters, his face turning red, and Tim mumbles something about pressing case work as he runs out of the room.


	114. Chapter 114

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hello! If you don't mind me asking, could you do a fic where Jason and Tim are arguing and then one of them goes "I could easily have one hand around your throat and the other down your pants. So shut it." And then it progresses from there?"

“I could easily have one hand around your throat and the other down your pants,” Tim snaps. “So shut it.”

Jason opens his mouth, but pauses. The harsh lines in his forehead smooth away, and his scowl is slowly overridden by a sly smile that puts Tim instantly on edge. “Oh?” Jason asks, his tone amused. “You sure you could reach both places at once?”

“What,” Tim asks, lost.

“Your arms are so short,” Jason explains with mock sympathy. “You’re so tiny, I don’t see how that could work.”

“Short jokes,” Tim deadpans. “This is what you’re reduced to? Short jokes?” He rolls his eyes.

Jason shrugs. “I’m just saying, don’t make threats you can’t come through on.”

Tim steps closer, crowding Jason against the wall. “You wanna see me come through, Jay?”

Jason’s still smirking, but he has to swallow before he speaks. “You gonna show me something?”

Slowly, so that Jason has time to move away, Tim raises one hand to Jason’s neck. Jason stays still, and Tim gently wraps his fingers around his throat, letting his nails drag against the skin. He can feel the pulse racing under his palm. His other hand falls to the front Jason’s pants. Tim keeps his eyes on Jason’s, and then he _squeezes_ , hard enough for Jason to rear back, knock his head against the wall, and let out a surprised, pained whine.

“No more short jokes,” Tim says, and then he walks away.


	115. Chapter 115

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Prompt: Tim gets a cat and Jason is allergic"

“Don’t do it!” Tim warned, trying to pull Jason away.

Jason kept moving forward, dragging Tim behind him, socks sliding across the hardwood floor. “I have to! I can’t help myself, Tim.”

“You _know_ what will happen.”

“It’s worth it,” Jason insisted.

“Fine!” Tim let go. Threw his hands up and left the room while Jason knelt in front of the couch. As he walked into the bedroom Tim could hear cooing noises behind him.

The sneezing started five minutes later.

After ten minutes Jason appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, baby?” His voice was raspy and weak. His eyes puffy and red. “Can I have some medicine?”

“You put your face on the cat, didn’t you.”

Jason sniffed pitifully. “She’s so fluffy and warm.”

Tim pulled Jason into the bathroom. “Wash your face and hands.”

As Jason obeyed, Tim opened the medicine cabinet and picked out the Claritin. The dissolve-able kind because Jason liked the way it tasted. The sicko.

Jason dried off and Tim handed him the little tablet.

“She purred at me,” Jason said with a dopey smile, slipping the pill under his tongue.

“She purrs at everyone.”

“No, she likes me the best.” Jason sneezed. Several times.

“You’re an idiot,” Tim sighed. “I don’t know why you do this to yourself.”

“I told you, i-it’s- _achoo!_ worth it. Like how you eat those Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, even though they give you heartburn. Except Bonnie actually loves me back.”

“ _Meow_.”

Tim looked down, and there was Bonnie, rubbing against Jason’s legs and looking up at him hopefully.

Jason smiled down at her.

“Jason, no.”

“Look how much she loves me!”

“Jason, no!”

“Come here, pretty kitty!” Jason picked up the cat and rubbed his face into her fur.

Bonnie closed her eyes and meowed happily.

Tim left the allergy medication on the counter and walked away.


	116. Chapter 116

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hello! I was wondering if you weren't busy and if you don't mind, could you write a fic where Bruce walks in on Jason and Tim kissing or something like that and they have to come up with an excuse?"

Tim’s laying on top of Jason, pressing him into the blankets with his whole body. His hands wrap around Jason’s wrists and pin them to the bed while his tongue licks at Jason’s bottom lip, light and quick and gone as soon as Jason reaches for it. Jason tries to chase after Tim’s mouth but Tim pulls up, away, smiling, and Jason whines. A little. Maybe.

Tim keeps doing that, teasing, over and over until Jason is squirming, feet tangling in the sheets and he’s panting, making these desperate little noises that he really can’t be assed to be embarrassed about, especially when Tim finally, _finally_ leans down and stays there, tongue falling into Jason’s mouth and Jason groans happily.

Tim kisses him, and _kisses_ him, and Jason hasn’t ever felt so perfectly blissful in his entire life.

And then the door creaks open, and the bliss is instantly gone. In its place now is dread, and fear, and Jason didn’t think he was truly afraid of anything anymore, but suddenly there’s Bruce, standing in the doorway, looking at them with wide eyes and Jason panics. He tosses Tim off of him and jumps up from the bed.

“Um, hey! Bruce. B. B-man. We were, uh, practicing CPR. You know, brushing up on the old life-saving skills. Super important. Okay, I’ll see you, bye!”

And then Jason runs out of Tim’s room, out of the manor.

~

“Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation practice?” Dick crosses his judging arms over his judging chest and looks at Jason with his stupid, judging face. “Really? _That’s_ what you went with?”

“…Tim told you?”

“Yeah, he came and asked me why you were such an idiot about it.”

“He did not.”

“I swear, those were his exact words.”

Jason groans, a weak, pathetic sound. He rubs his face. His stupid, idiotic face. “Is he mad?”

Dick tilts his head. “Not _mad_ , exactly. He was a little pissed you left him on the floor-”

“Oh, _god._ ”

“Way to go, by the way. Really nice.”

“I panicked!”

“But _why?_ ”

“I- I… don’t know,” Jason sighs.

“Well, figure it out and then go talk to Tim about it,” Dick says. “And then maybe Bruce.”

Jason grimaces. “So I’m guessing he didn’t buy the CPR thing?”

Dick laughs.

~

Jason finds Tim in his bedroom, sitting on the bed with his computer in his lap, typing away. He glances up from his work as Jason enters.

“Careful,” Tim warns with exaggerated concern, “Bruce is home. He might see you in here.”

“I know.”

“Oh, so _brave_.”

Jason comes up next to the bed and asks, “Can I sit?”

Tim keeps typing, not giving an answer one way or an another, so Jason stays standing.

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

The clicking of the keys stops and Tim sighs. He closes his laptop and sets it aside. He looks up at Jason, his hair messy and baggy clothes rumpled, like he’s been sitting right there working for hours, days, non-stop. He probably has.

“What the fuck happened, Jason?” He doesn’t sound very angry, just… confused. Irritated.

“I panicked,” Jason says, again, because that’s the only way he can think to describe it. He’s been trained to think before he acts, even when he only has a split-second to make a decision. But he wasn’t thinking when he pushed Tim away.

“That’s not really an answer, Jay.” Tim scoots over to make room and pats the open space.

Jason takes the invitation and sits down. “I know, I’m sorry. I just. I saw Bruce and in my head I heard everything he might say, and I. Couldn’t. I couldn’t stay and hear him say it out loud.”

“What did you think he was going to say?” Tim asks.

Jason forces his teeth to unclench. Swallows. “That… that I’m not any good for you, and that I should leave and stay away and. And we just recently got to a point where Bruce doesn’t glare at me every time I come over, or watch me like he thinks I’m suddenly going to freak out and shoot everyone. I don’t want to go back to that- or worse, not be allowed in the manor at all.”

Tim is silent for a minute, and then, “You want to know what he said to me after you ran out?”

Jason doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He’s scared to hear it.

Tim says it anyway. “He asked me if there was anything he needed to be worried about, and I told him no, and he accepted it. Then he asked me if I was happy, and I said yes, and he accepted that, too.”

“He did?” Jason asks, and his voice comes out too soft.

“Yeah.” Tim smiles. “And then he told me to wipe the spit off my chin before I came down for dinner.”

Jason laughs, startled, and a little disbelieving. He looks at Tim’s chin. He wants to kiss it. “I’m sorry for throwing you on the floor.”

Tim moves, quick and strong, and when Jason blinks his eyes open again he’s on the floor, on his back, and Tim is straddling him, looking down at him triumphantly. “There. Now we’re even,” he says, and then he leans down and kisses Jason.

“The door is still open,” Jason reminds him.

“I don’t care. Do you?”

“No,” Jason answers. He pulls Tim down for another kiss.


	117. Chapter 117

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey you could please make a AU Jaytim Birthday?"

Jason and Kori walked into the spa and into another world. One in which the problems they faced in the big, bad outside world had no place. The walls were a light olive green, the carpets plush beneath their feet. Soft, soothing music played and in every corner there sat fountains, clear water flowing gently down artfully arranged stones. Jason felt instantly relieved, just standing inside the doors.

Kori approached the welcome desk, where a blonde girl met them with a smile.

“Welcome. Do you have an appointment?”

Kori nodded. “Kori Anders and Jason Todd.”

“Okay, let me just see…” She turned toward the computer on her desk and clicked a few times and then, “Right, here you are. A deep tissue massage, salt glow exfoliation, manicure, and pedicure for Miss Anders, and the warm oil candle massage and rose mud body treatment for Mr. Todd. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Miss Anders, you’ll be with Cassandra for your massage, and Mr. Todd, you’ll have Tim. You can sit right over there and they’ll be in to collect you in just a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

They sat on huge, chocolate brown chairs, sinking into the cushions. God, Jason was so ready for this. He rarely treated himself to nice things, especially at such expense (and this whole day would be _very_ expensive), but Kori had convinced him they needed it. It was his birthday, she had argued. He needed to at least treat himself on his birthday. She was right, as always.

“What time are we meeting Roy for dinner?”

“Seven,” Kori answered. “I got us reservations at that new Italian restaurant you’ve been pining after.”

Jason turned to reply and he spotted a man leaning against the front desk, chatting with the receptionist.

Jason’s words died in his throat.

“Just need a few minutes,” the man was saying. “Did Kon make it in time?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he stumbled in with four seconds to spare. Looks like complete shit.”

The man laughed. “I kept telling him to chill out last night. Maybe next time he’ll listen to me.”

“Maybe after he throws up all over his first appointment.”

“Gross, Steph.”

The girl, Steph, shrugged, unapologetic. “Anyway, I’ll send him back in ten minutes. That work for you?”

“Perfect, thanks.”

“Anything for you, Timmy-boo.”

The man pulled a face at her and then turned and walked back down the hall leading to the rest of the facility.

“Jason?”

Jason blinked, snapped his attention over to Kori, who was watching him closely. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Tim.”

“Who?”

“Um, hold on.” Jason stood and walked over to the desk. “Excuse me.”

Steph- or Stephanie, as he now saw on her name tag- looked up at him. “Yes?”

“That- that was Tim, right? The guy you were talking to.”

“Right.”

“Okay, I’m going to need a different masseuse.”

Stephanie blinked at him. “Excuse me?” she said, slowly.

“Can you put me with someone else?”

“There’s no one else available right now…”

“Can’t you just switch me and Kori or something? I’ll take Cassandra.”

“You signed up for different procedures, it doesn’t work that way. Is there a problem, sir?”

Jason growled a little, frustrated. “I just can’t have him work on me, okay, so. So I need to cancel my massage.”

Stephanie’s lips pressed together tightly, and her practised relaxed and welcoming tone disappeared. “Is it because he’s a man? Because we don’t tolerate bigotry in here and if you’re going to cause a problem you can just leave right now.”

Jason groaned and said, “Oh my god, it’s because he’s hot, okay? I think it would make it more than a little awkward if I popped a boner while he was rubbing me down- which, I’m telling you right now, I absolutely would. Seeing as that would be fairly uncomfortable for him, and not totally relaxing for me either, I’m thinking it’s a problem.”

“Oh,” Stephanie said, eyes wide. Then she laughed. “Oh! Okay, well there’s still not much I can do for you… Unless you want to move the massage for after the mud bath, and then I can probably fit you in with someone else.”

Jason let out a sigh of relief. “As long as it’s not Kon. I don’t want to be thrown up on.”

She laughed again. Her eyes slid to the side, past Jason, and she laughed even harder.

Jason turned around and saw Tim standing there, watching. His cheeks were red, and his smile looked more than a little forced. “So, I guess I have the next hour free? That’s cool, that’s fine.”

Jason bit back the horrified groan that was climbing up his throat, and pasted on a confident smile. “Unless you wanted try it anyway and see where it takes us.”

Tim gaped. Eventually he cleared his throat and said, “Well. That would probably be illegal, and we aren’t that kind of establishment.”

Stephanie’s eyes flicked back and forth between them while she grinned.

“But,” Tim said, “I don’t think there would be a problem after my shift is over.”

Stephanie slapped a hand to her mouth, cutting off a delighted shriek.

Jason knew how she felt. “After- yeah, after. Okay,” Jason stammered, all of his cockiness lost. “Tonight?”

“We have plans tonight,” Kori called, still seated but watching with great interest.

“Plans?”

“Your birthday dinner,” Kori said slowly.

“Oh, right. Um, tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Tim echoed, nodding. “I’ll call you?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.” Tim smiled as he backed off down the hall again. “Tomorrow. And happy birthday, Jason.”

Happy birthday indeed.


	118. Chapter 118

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just kiss me already."

“Just kiss me already!” 

Tim looked down at him dubiously, a little wrinkle of doubt between his eyebrows, his lips pressed together with what might have been disgust, which Jason found vaguely offensive. He wasn’t that gross, okay. In fact, as far as frogs went, he was a damn fine specimen. Probably. He couldn’t really see himself. 

“You’re sure about this?”

“Yes,” Jason croaked, shifting his wet, webbed feet, sliding a bit across the skin of Tim’s palm. Tim flinched like it tickled, so Jason did it again. “Come on, just one little peck and then we can go on with our lives, forgetting this ever happened.”

“Fine,” Tim sighed, resigned to his fate. “But you owe me big time, mister.”

“How’s about I don’t owe you anything and I kindly refrain from peeing on your hand?”

“Why the hell would you pee on my hand?”

“That’s what frogs do, Tim,” Jason answered with a shrug of his tiny frog shoulders. “I don’t make the rules.” 

Tim rolled his eyes; they looked huge from Jason’s point of view. “Good god, just calm down. I’m gonna do it.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Can’t fucking believe it’s happening like this,” Tim mumbled, but before Jason could ask what he meant by that, there was a large pair of puckered lips pressing gently against his broad face. 

Jason felt the magic working, the very unsettling sensation of growing from two inches to six feet in a matter of seconds. He opened his eyes and found Tim staring at him, eyes wide; they were still pretty big. 

“You’re naked,” Tim stated. 

“I guess clothes don’t make it through the transformation,” Jason noted, glancing down at his very naked self. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

“You planning on getting turned into a frog again?”

Jason shrugged his- thankfully human- shoulders. “I plan on pissing off that magical asshole again, so you never know.” 

“And will it be my job you turn you back again?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it, Timmy,” Jason said with a wink. “I know you were hot for my amphibian body.”

Tim glanced away. “Right. Next time I’m leaving you in Damian’s room. He’ll name you Bat Frog and sew you a tiny cape.”

“How cruel!”


	119. Chapter 119

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How do you accidentally kiss someone?”

“So…” Tim drawls, stepping into Kon’s office. He shuts the door firmly behind him. “I may have just kissed Jason Todd.”

Kon’s fingers pause over his keyboard, and he glances up from the computer screen. “That the guy from Human Resources you’ve had a hard-on over for the last year?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Tim says, giving a delicate cough. “But yes.”

“Cool, it’s about time. So what happened?”

“Well. It was sort of an accident.”

Abandoning his work, Kon slowly turns so he’s facing Tim straight on. “Timbo, buddy, how do you _accidentally kiss_ someone?”

“It’s kind of a funny story,” Tim says, poking at the knick-knacks on Kon’s bookshelf. “Well, not ‘haha’ funny, more like ‘Tim’s an idiot’ funny.”

“Those are the same to me.”

“Right. Thanks for that. So anyway, you may not have known this, but you and Jason look pretty similar from behind.”

“That so?”

Tim nods sharply, fiddling with his tie. It’s the Looney Tunes one that Stephanie gave him for his birthday. “Quite. And I saw what I thought was you in line at the coffee shop in the lobby, and I went up behind you- him- and…”

“Kissed him,” Kon ventures when Tim trails off.

“First I grabbed his ass and then I kissed him on the cheek.”

“Oh god,” Kon says delightedly, a grin breaking out across his stupid face. “This is amazing. What did he do?”

“Nothing. We just kinda stared at each other for a minute in mutual horrified, awkward silence and then I blurted out that I thought he was you, and I ran away.”

Kon laughs.

Tim slumps into the guest chair and slams his forehead down onto Kon’s desk. “Uhhggg,” he groans unintelligibly.

Kon keeps laughing.

“It was so awful!” Tim whines. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t look him in the eyes ever again. And forget about asking him out!”

“Aw, poor Timmy,” Kon coos through his giggles. He reaches across the desk and pats Tim’s hair.

“Am I interrupting something?” a voice asks.

Tim rolls his head to the side enough to the person standing in the doorway. He squeaks.

“Sorry,” Jason says, eyes fixed to where Kon’s hand is touching Tim. He waves the piece of paper he’s holding. “I just wanted to drop this off.”

“What is it,” Kon asks.

“A relationship disclosure form. Since you two are… well. We need to have these things on file.”

Tim shoots up. “We’re not!” he yells, and Jason gives him the same wide-eyed look that he had in the lobby after The Kiss. “Kon and I, we aren’t. Um. We’re friends.”

“Okay,” Jason says slowly. “Whatever you want to label it, I still need-”

“But it’s not like that, I swear,” Tim interrupts, flapping his hands for emphasis. “I was just joking around. I don’t usually grab his butt. That’s not, like, a regular thing we do.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “And the kiss?”

“Not- no. We don’t kiss. I’m not kissing anyone right now. Very much single. Currently.”

Kon stifles another laugh behind his hand.

“Oh. Um, that’s good,”Jason says. A small smile tugs at his lips. He nods. “Very good.”


	120. Chapter 120

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You shot me.”

“You shot me,” Jason gasps, looking down at the point of impact, at his chest and the red splattered there. He lifts his eyes to Tim, standing a few feet away, still aiming his gun at Jason.

Tim’s face is stone, cold, uncaring.

“Tim,” Jason says, the name falling from his lips in a fog of confusion, of betrayal, falling like red droplets hitting the tops of his shoes. He asks, “Why?”

“I came to win,” Tim answers, voice hard. “You should know by now, Jason, that I always win.”

“We were…” Jason coughs. He’s out of time. “We were going to win _together._ We’re on the same team.”

Throwing his head back, Tim laughs. He fixes Jason with an icy look, and even after all he’s done, Jason can’t help but be enchanted.

“Look around you! There are no teams here. This is every man for himself.”

Jason tries to protest, but Tim is already moving, leaving Jason behind. Alone.

“This is hell,” Tim says over his shoulder. “There are no rules in hell!”

A few minutes later Tim shuffles over to the bench where Jason’s sitting. There are several splatters of blue paint on his legs and back.

“Dick got me,” Tim reports sulkily.

“Serves you right,” Jason says. He takes a drink from his water bottle. Tim reaches over but Jason moves the bottle just out of his reach. “I can’t believe you shot me.”

“My head was cloudy with blood-lust, babe. You know I still love you.”

“You really seemed to enjoy it,” Jason points out.

“You know what, I kind of did,” Tim says, sounding vaguely surprised. He hums. “Interesting.”


	121. Chapter 121

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're back."

“You’re back,” Jack says, surprised. 

“Of course.” Tim steps into the room, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor. “My father’s in the hospital, where else would I be?” 

“School, perhaps?” 

Tim sinks into the uncomfortable chair by Jack’s bed. “Ah, that. I was done for the day,” he answers with a flippant wave of his hand. 

Jack doesn’t ask whether that means Tim doesn’t have any classes this afternoon or Tim decided to skip. 

“And you decided to come visit me again.”

“I’m a good son.”

“You were here yesterday, and this morning.”

“I’m a very, very good son.”

“Hmm.” Jack narrows his eyes at his very, very good son. 

The door opens then, and a nurse walks in. His purple scrubs are a welcome splash of color in the otherwise bleak room. 

“Alright, Mr. Drake, I’ve got your lunch here,” the man says, setting down a tray of food on the table that swings over Jack’s bed. He spots Tim and smiles. “Hey, Tim. Didn’t think you’d be back today.”

Tim tries to keep his grin from spreading to far. He fails. “Hi, Jason.”

Jack lifts the plastic lid from the platter, and pulls a face. “I’ll be glad to be home tomorrow, and have some real food.”

Jason chuckles sympathetically. “I know, it’s awful. But hey, there’s a cafeteria on the first floor that has some pretty decent stuff. Better than this, anyway.”

“Oh really,” Jack says. His eyes slide to the side. “Maybe my very, very good son would go get me something.”

Tim blinks, tears his gaze away from Jason and the way the soft fabric of his pants fit around his thighs. “What was that?”

“Cafeteria,” Jack says. “Down stairs. Could you go and get me lunch that’s actually edible?”

“Oh.” Tim’s shoulders drop a fraction. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” 

He drags himself out of the chair and over to the door. 

“You know,” Jason says, making Tim stop and turn back. “I was just about to go on my lunch break.”

“Yeah? That’s, um. Cool,” Tim says brilliantly. 

Jason rolls his eyes. “Such wit. I could go with you,” he explains, and Tim barely manages a dazed nod. 

“Cool,” he says again. Like an idiot. 

Jason smiles. “I might actually miss you when your dad checks out of here.”

Tim grins. “Cool.”


	122. Chapter 122

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wasn’t scared.”

Jason hears a commotion halfway up the steps, things being moved around and scratches against stone. The whooshing of leathery wings flapping around.

He hurries to the top of the tower and, as a precaution, draws his sword before unlatching the huge, wooden door and busting through. He’s expecting the worst, fighting and swords and fire and blood-

But all he sees is Tim, rummaging around in his piles of stuff. The afternoon sunlight shines through the wide western window, glinting nicely off Tim’s scales, casting a greenish light as he moves. He’s lovely.

And freaking out.

“Tim?” Jason asks warily, still holding his sword at the ready, just in case.

“Where is it,” Tim mumbles to himself, opening a chest with his sharp claws. “It’s not here!”

Jason steps closer. “Tim, sweetheart, are you okay?”

“Okay!” Tim scoffs. “How could I be okay at a time like this?”

“Talk to me, darling. What’s got you in a tizzy?”

Finally Tim turns to face Jason. “’In a tizzy’? Who says that anymore?”

“Well it got you to look at me, didn’t it? Now tell me what’s wrong.”

Tim sighs, a puff of smoke slipping through his teeth. “I’ve been doing inventory, and I cant find my favorite ruby. You know the one. The red one with the blemish that looks like a bird.”

“Oh.” Jason slides his sword back into his scabbard. “Yeah… about that…”

Tim goes still, his big, blue eyes narrowing dangerously. “You didn’t…”

“Okay, yes I took it to trade,” Jason confesses, “but I wanted to get you something nice, and I swear it was the only one that would do.”

Tim gasps, raising a scandalized wing to his chest. “I can’t believe you traded my _favorite ruby!_ ”

“Technically, it was my ruby,” Jason points out.

“ _Technically_ it became _mine_ when I captured you. Anyway, how could you?” He frowns, and it shouldn’t be that cute considering he’s a hulking dragon, but Jason never claimed to have all his marbles.

Jason steps forward, pulling a small, delicate telescope out of his pocket. “Because I saw you eyeing this the other week when we went to the market.”

Tim’s attention zeros in fully in the telescope. A moment later there’s a rush of wind and a flash of soft light, and then Tim is there, standing on two legs and minus a tail. He reaches out with his human fingers to gently take the present. “It’s beautiful,” he breathes.

“But?” Jason leads, because Tim still looks sad.

“But that ruby was special…”

“And that’s why,” Jason says, holding out his other hand, “I kept it too.”

Tim’s smile is worth the way Jason almost got caught stealing the jewel back from the seller.

“Thank you,” Tim says softly.

“You’re welcome,” Jason answers. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t _scared_.”

“Sure looked like it.”

“Well then you need to have your eyes checked,” Tim huffs.

“You need to have your memory checked,” Jason throws back. “Because you were definitely freaking out. And, back to this whole ‘capturing me’ thing- you did not capture me, okay. I wooed you into my castle.”

Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You wanna have this argument _again?_ ”

“We’re gonna have it until you admit the truth!”


	123. Chapter 123

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wanna play?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://drabblemeister.tumblr.com/post/162019218864/wherein-tim-is-surprised-to-find-hes-the-kinkier) by drabblemeister and tanekore, I love you two <3

“Wanna play?” Tim asks, voice light like what he’s saying is inconsequential, something he asks every day, and while those words might be common for him, it’s the context that has Jason freezing up, eyes wide and mouth open and brain blank. Because usually when Tim asks that question, he’s talking about _Super Mario Kart_ or _Uno_.

He’s not talking about _Uno_ right now.

Jason rasps a small, “What?” and Tim turns those blue eyes up at him, gloved fingers still caressing the smooth, shiny metal. It looks cold.

“We could have some fun with this.”

“F-fun. With…”

“This,” Tim affirms, holding up the cuffs. The light from a nearby sign advertising Marlboro reds for buy one get one half off glints off the chrome steel, the neon red catching on the curves and grooves and this is one time Jason doesn’t like the color red.

“We, as in, you and I? And those?”

“Yes,” Tim says simply.

Jason wants to run.

“How,” he asks, even though he already knows.

Tim blinks. “Well, I was thinking you could put me in them.”

“Um,” Jason manages though his very dry mouth, through his sluggish mind that’s not forming any words, just a strongly negative feeling that’s pulsing, crashing like frantic waves between his ears.

“Or,” Tim says, still sounding like he could be talking about ice cream or shoes or any other ordinary thing, “I could tie _you_ down.”

“No!” Jason blurts out, already taking a step away, toward the end of the roof top and _away_. He stops himself before he gets there, the small part of his brain that’s not freaking out, yelling _run_ , reminding him that is Tim, that Tim is good and won’t hurt him and he should _talk_ to Tim, he _can_ talk to Tim.

Jason breathes. “No,” he says, calmer this time. “I’m not. Not comfortable with that.”

Another small part of his brain braces for… something. Anger. Violence. A thousand questions and weird looks and rejection.

It doesn’t come.

Instead Tim just says, “Oh, okay,” and slips the handcuffs into a pocket on his belt, the chain links rattling.

Jason breathes easier.

Tim asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

And no, he doesn’t really want to talk about it, but this is Tim, and Tim is _good_ , and he _should_ talk to Tim, and he _can_ talk to Tim, so he nods, and says, “Later. At home,” and Tim nods back, and that’s the end of it.


	124. Chapter 124

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you jealous or something?"

Tim was tired, an exhaustion that had settled in years ago and made a home in his weary bones and muscles, nestled in his heart and around his brain. It was born of loss and responsibility and exposure to things that children should never see. And he wasn’t a child any longer, but he hadn’t quite healed right, even after all those years. 

Jason plopped down next to Tim, dangling his boot-clad feet over the edge of the high-rise. Wind pulled at his jacket, the leather snapping against itself.

“How you doing, honey?”

Tim looked out over the city. The office buildings and hotels, the bridges, the polluted river. Dirty streets and dirty hands. “Tired,” he said, feeling the pressure of the entirety of Gotham pushing down on him. He felt his suit tightening around his body, the mask digging into his cheeks.

He looked at Jason, who simply nodded. Jason, who was tired too. Who had always been tired and had finally gotten to rest, only to be dragged away from it. Screaming.

“Yeah,” Jason breathed, and pulled Tim gently until he leaned into Jason’s side.

Tim let himself be tucked under Jason’s arm, let himself accept the comfort for just a moment.

Then he straightened up.

“I have work to do,” he said reluctantly.

“Is it more important than me?” Jason asked.

Tim gave a little half-smile. “Are you jealous or something?”

“Maybe,” Jason said with a shrug, and Tim paused, really looked at him, because he didn’t seem to be joking. Jason met his eyes, then glanced away. “Just haven’t gotten to spend any time with you lately is all. Outside of the masks,” he added when Tim opened his mouth to protest.

Tim thought about it, and nodded. “You’re right.”

“That mean you’re gonna take the night off?”

A siren cut through the air, and Tim’s muscles instinctively tensed, ready to fly.

Jason sighed. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Tim promised, standing up and pulling out his grapple. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to take Jason home and lay on the couch, watch a movie and order Chinese food and fuck on the kitchen table.

He wanted to rest.

He was so tired.

“Tomorrow,” Tim repeated with one last look at Jason, before leaping into the night.

Tomorrow, he said to himself, every night.


	125. Chapter 125

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is that blood on your shirt?"

“Is that blood on your shirt?” Tim asks, holding the garment up to the light, squinting hard. “Or ketchup?”

Jason peeks into the laundry room. “I don’t remember.”

Tim brings the shirt closer, _closer_ to his face. “I think it’s… ketchup.”

“Babe.”

“Hm.”

Jason leans against the door frame. “You wanna know what I think?”

“Probably not.”

“You need glasses,” Jason says anyway.

“I do _not_.” Tim glares at him, and then licks the fabric. “It’s ketchup. There, see? I figured it out.”

“Tim.”

“ _Without_ glasses.”

“Tim that’s gross.”

“I’m not old.”

“What if that had been blood?”

“I’m a spring chicken.”

“And you don’t know whose blood it might have been!”

“Well it wasn’t blood,” Tim says, throwing the shirt into the washing machine. “And I don’t need glasses.”

Jason sighs, “That’s too bad. I’ve always thought glasses would be hot on you.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “That won’t work. Like I’d ever do something just because you’d think it’s sexy. What kind of man do you take me for,” he mutters, dumping in the detergent and jamming the start button.

“The kind that licks strango blood, apparently.”

Tim grimaces. “Okay, that’s probably not a good thing.”

He steps toward Jason and slumps against his chest.

“Fine,” he says bitterly. “But I’m gonna complain about them all the time.”

Jason rubs his hand in soothing circles over Tim’s back. “I know.”

“But I’m not old,” Tim says into Jason’s shoulder.

“Of course not.”

“And neither are you.”

“Spring chicken, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Here.” Jason grabs Tim around his waist and carries him toward their bedroom. “I’ll show just how young we are.”


	126. Chapter 126

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hm what about "we shouldn't be doing this" or "next time, I make the plan" (maybe with some Vulcan Jay and Tim shenanigans if that inspires? Or not! )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is in the _Kaiidth. Or Whatever._ (star trek) verse, but you don’t need to have read it.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Tim says against Jason’s neck. And then he licks it.

Jason freezes, one hand half-way up the back of Tim’s shirt. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, I just meant we probably shouldn’t so this _here_ , in public.”

Jason glances around Tim’s work space, an isolated room, empty except for them. “There’s no one here.”

“Yeah, but. They could walk in.”

“Tim, I’m literally the only person that has ever visited you here.”

Tim thinks about that for a minute, fingers absently stroking the back of Jason’s neck. “Okay you’re right. Fuck it,” he decides, sliding his lips along Jason’s jaw.

“Fuck it? How romantic.”

“Fuck _me_. Better?”

Jason says, “I’ll take it,” and easily lifts Tim up so he’s sitting on the console he was rewiring before Jason walked in.

Tim wraps his legs around Jason’s hips and pulls him down for a kiss. He runs a finger up the side of Jason’s ear and lightly pinches the pointed tip, earning him a happy little whimper. His other hand finds Jason’s to meet in a Vulcan kiss, and Tim feels the last of the day’s tension fall away. It does more for Jason, he knows, but Tim’s grown to love the action and what it represents, the sweetness and trust and affection in just the touch of two fingers.

“Fuck me,” Tim says, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against Jason’s, and this time when he says it he means it, really means it and wants it and needs it and Jason nods, already reaching for the fastenings in Tim’s pants.

Jason fumbles with the buttons because he’s not really paying attention, too busy kissing Tim’s lips, his cheek, his jaw and neck, mumbling _yes_ and _please_ and _ashayam_ , so Tim knocks his hands out of the way and does it himself.

They get the pants out of the way, pulled down around Tim’s thighs, and Jason starts with little touches on his legs, his hips, across sensitive skin with hot fingers and Tim whines, the noise bubbling up from his chest in desperation.

“Jason,” he urges, grabbing onto Jason’s pointed ear with one hand, his shoulder with the other.

Jason’s hands flex, fingertips digging into Tim’s thighs. “Yeah?” he says, innocent except for the way it comes out breathless.

“Come on, just…” Tim breaks off with a frustrated sigh. He can’t say it, can’t ever _say it_ , and Jason thinks it’s funny. Tim doesn’t think it’s funny right now.

But then Jason kisses him, sweetly, and says, “Sorry,” and finally, finally moves his hand closer, _closer_ , and Tim’s breath picks up, quick and heavy and he’s so fucking ready for the feel of Jason’s hand on his-

The klaxon blares.

A moment later the red lights start flashing.

Tim dies a little on the inside.

“Okay maybe _that’s_ why we shouldn’t have started doing this.”


	127. Chapter 127

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 31\. “Stop being such a baby.”
> 
> 36\. “Wow she’s way better than you, does that make you feel bad?”

Bruce starts to cry when Tim takes away the very dangerous, very sharp tool he’d somehow gotten ahold of. 

“Stop being such a baby.” 

“Tim,” Jason says slowly, “he  _is_  a baby.”

“He’s a toddler,” Tim corrects. 

Bruce, sitting in Jason’s lap, holds up three fingers. “I’m fo-ah.” He sniffles. 

Jason gently raises another chubby finger. “Yes you are. One, two, three, four,” he counts off on each finger. He tickles Bruce’s palm, earning him a giggle that rings out through the cave. 

“He’s fo-ah,” Jason tells Tim, ignoring the way Tim blanches at his baby-talk, “and it’s fine for him to get upset.”

“Getting upset and throwing a fit are different things, and it was over something he wasn’t supposed to be doing in the first place.”

“Wow, okay.”

“What?” Tim turns away from the monitor, his hands finally pausing. 

“He wasn’t throwing a fit.”

“Yes, he was, and I’m trying to work here. I’m trying to find a way to fix this, and he screamed at me.” 

Bruce shoves his face into Jason’s chest and wails again.

“See?” 

“Tim, this is just what four year-olds do, especially if you start yelling at them.” Jason rubs his hands soothingly up and down the boy’s back. 

“I’m not crazy for not wanting a child making a ruckus in my ear while I work!”

Tim freezes. His eyes glaze over, like he’s looking at something that’s not in the room. 

“Making a ruckus,” Jason echos, eyebrows raised. Tim doesn’t move. “Babe?”

Bruce smears snot on Jason’s shirt. 

“Honey, are you okay?”

Tim blinks, sucks in a deep breath. “Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“I think… I think my dad was kind of an asshole.”

Jason snorts. “Welcome to the club.”

Tim shoots him a look, and Jason raises the hand that’s not wiping Bruce’s face in surrender. 

“Sorry. You were having a break-through of some sort?”

Tim sighs and leans against the console. “I said exactly what my dad used to say. Before Mrs. Mac would drag me out of the room and tell me I shouldn’t bother him because he’s a very busy and important man.”

“Ah.” Jason nods in understanding, not that he can relate much, but. A lot of things make more sense now. 

Tim kneels down in front of where Jason’s sitting with Bruce nestled in his arms. 

“Bruce?” he tries, voice soft. 

The boy turns his face away. 

“I’m sorry I was mean. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Bruce refuses to acknowledge him, and Tim stands when it becomes clear he’s not going to any time soon. 

Stephanie finds them like that, with Bruce tucked into Jason’s side and Tim pouting. She raises and eyebrow at Jason in silent question, but he shakes his head. 

“Hey there,” she says, and Bruce peeks out at her. She smiles at him. “You wanna come upstairs with me? There’s peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and we can watch a movie. Lots more fun than these two goofballs.”

Bruce grins and jumps down, lets her take his hand and lead him out of the cave. 

“Wow she’s way better than you,” Jason says, watching them go. “Does that make you feel bad?” 

Tim looks at him with pursed lips. He hums thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s why I like you.”

“What?”

“Maybe I have a thing for assholes because my dad was an asshole.”

“That’s some serious daddy issues there, babe.”

Tim snorts. “I’m not the only one.”

“Hey, I resent that. I have  _mommy_  issues, thank you very much.”


	128. Chapter 128

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "who said I hate you?" And "I bet you ten dollars you wont kiss me"?

For a theater kid, Jason isn’t a very good actor. It’s so obvious he doesn’t want to be here. Every time Tim moves Jason practically flinches away. He won’t meet Tim’s eyes. A minute ago Tim accidentally touched Jason’s arm when he was reaching over to grab a different book, and Jason looked like he was gonna throw up.

Tim has no idea what he did to Jason to make him hate him so much, but at this point he doesn’t even care. He just wants to finish this assignment and move on with his life. And hopefully never get partnered with Jason Todd ever again.

“Find anything good yet?” Tim asks, and Jason’s head jerks in what he guesses is a nod. Tim huffs. “Well?”

Jason slides a book across the table (all the way across because he couldn’t even bring himself to sit next to Tim) and points to a paragraph halfway down the page. Without looking at Tim.

Tim stares at him for a second, and then all of his frustration comes boiling up and he snaps, “Why do you hate me?”

Jason’s eyes snap up, finally, but then quickly dart away. “Who said I hate you?”

“The way you reacted when Mr. Sherman paired us up was a pretty good indication,” Tim says. “You pretty much begged him to give you someone else.”

The librarian shushes him.

“That’s not- it’s. I don’t _hate_ you,” Jason stammers, voice low.

“Then what’s your fucking problem?”

“Mr. Drake!” the librarian hisses.

Tim gets up and moves over the other side, plops down in the seat next to Jason who’s staring at him like Tim is about to eat him.

“What’s your fucking problem,” Tim whispers.

“I- uh.” Jason licks his lips, glances around the room like he’s hoping someone will come save him.

Tim leans in closer. “Jason.”

“I like you,” Jason blurts out, eyes wide and horrified.

There’s a heavy silence. Then, “Bullshit.”

“Um. What?”

“That’s just not true,” Tim says, shaking his head. “You can’t stand me.”

Jason’s eyebrows draw together, and he pulls himself forward a little. “It is true.”

“I don’t buy it.”

And now he seems more angry than scared. “Well fuck you then, that’s not my problem. You asked and I told you.”

Tim scoffs. “I bet you ten dollars you won’t kiss me.”

Jason barks out a laugh. Now he’s the one getting shushed. “You want me to kiss you?”

“I just wanna prove that you won’t, because you hate me.”

“So just to be clear here, I get to kiss you and I get ten dollars?”

Tim nods.

“Alright.” Jason leans toward Tim. “I would have been happy to for free, but hell.”

And then he kisses him.

“Oh,” Tim says, sometime later. “Okay. I believe you.”

Jason grins. “You still owe me ten bucks.”

“Out!” the librarian yells.


	129. Chapter 129

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t leave me alone with him, he’s got a murder-y face.”

“Don’t leave me alone with him, he’s got a murder-y face,” Jason begs, careful to keep his voice low.

Dick laughs. “Yeah, well…” He trails off when he looks back over to where Tim is curled up on the couch. He coughs. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” 

They both stare at Tim with morbid fascination. 

Dick decides, “It’ll be fine,” clapping a hand to Jason’s shoulder encouragingly. 

It’s not actually as comforting as he seems to think it is. 

“Dick-head,  _don’t_ ,” Jason tries, but Dick’s already gone. 

“So is it your turn to babysit,” Tim asks, startling Jason. His voice is rough and broken and just screams,  _Sick!_

Jason sighs. “Yeah.” He drops onto the couch. The  _other_  couch, far away from Tim and his germs. 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Tim protests with the cadence of someone who’s said that a great many times. 

“You’ll overwork yourself to death and need to rest,” Jason recites with a similar tone. 

Tim raises an eyebrow.

“Not that I care.”

Tim snorts. Then winces and rubs his sinuses regretfully. 

“You look like death, by the way. I should know,” Jason adds at the same time that Tim says, “You’d know.” 

“You’re getting predictable, Jay.”


	130. Chapter 130

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you run a background check on me?”

“Tim, for fuck’s sake, we’re friends! There’s nothing even slightly romantic or sexual about our relationship, and even if there was, it would be  _my_ relationship and  _none_  of  _your_  damn business!”

Stephanie catches her breath, sips some iced tea to soothe her throat. Doesn’t give a shit about the fact that half of the people in the restaurant are staring at her. 

“Even if you aren’t dating,” Tim says, looking very much like he doesn’t believe that’s a possibility, “you’ve gotten really close with this guy, and I know it’s your life and you can do what you want but I’m still gonna be concerned, considering your track record with assholes.”

“A-holes like you?”

“A-holes that hurt you.”

“Jason would never-”

“ _Would never hurt me_ , good God, Steph, how many times have you said that.”

Stephanie grabs a corn chip and goes to dip it into the salsa. 

“You don’t wanna do that, it’s spicy.”

“See? This!” she yells, throwing her hands up. “You’re constantly telling me what to do, what not to do!”

“I’m just trying to help!”

“I don’t need your help!” Stephanie snatches the bowl of salsa and knocks it back, downing half of it in one gulp. She pins Tim with a fiery glare. “If I want to eat spicy shit, I’‘ll eat the spicy shit. If I want to hang out with assholes, I’ll hang out with assholes, and you can’t stop me.”

Tim stays quiet, waiting for…

“Oh  _fuck me_ that’s hot!”

That. 

While Stephanie drowns herself in her tea, and then Tim’s water when she’s done with that, Tim calmly eats more chips.

“Fuck you,” she rasps, wiping water off her chin. “Don’t think you’ve won anything.”

Tim decides to ignore the salsa fiasco and move on to the nitty-gritty. “He has a record.”

“I know.”

“He’s been  _arrested_. How many of your past boyfriends had records? All of them?” 

“Not Tony.”

“Not _before_  you got together, no.”

“Well that stuff is from when Jason was a kid, okay. He’s really different now. Besides, it’s a moot point because he isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Dammit, Tim, he’s gay!”

Tim blinks. “What?”

“Gay,” Steph repeats. “Extraordinarily gay. Steeped in gayness. He is repulsed by my lady bits,” she says, cupping her breasts. 

Tim grimaces.

“Just like that,” she points. 

“Oh. That, uh. Didn’t come up in the background check.”

“You ran a background check on me?” 

Tim looks up and there’s a man standing by their table. A man Tim recogonises from his… research. 

“Hey, Jay,” Stephanie says, finally letting go of her boobs. “This is Tim. Tim, Jason.”

Tim forces out an awkward, “Nice to meet you,” and Jason tosses back a dubious, “A pleasure,” and Stephanie pulls Jason into the chair next to Tim’s. 

“Sit down, get cozy.”

And then, well. Tim sees it. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They’re silent for a minute, the waitress coming to refill their chips and salsa and waters and ask if they’re ready to order. Stephanie hands her menu over to Jason and stands. 

“Have fun, you two. Get something spicy, Tim.” She winks, and leaves. 


	131. Chapter 131

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s been 10 years how do you still look so good?”

“It’s been 10 years, how do you still look so good?” Jason asks, squeezing Tim’s ass. “I mean. Just look at this thing. Fuck.”  

“We’ve known each other for a lot longer than ten years, babe,” comes Tim’s muffled reply from where his face is mushed into a pillow. 

“Well, ten years since we started doin’ the do.” He gives a harder squeeze. Since I got to see  _this_.”

Tum grunts. 

“But seriously, Tim, this is one fine ass.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I would pay so much for this. Like, just to look at it for a minute. I would give you all my money.” 

“Thanks.”

“How do you keep everything so firm and perky? My butt is not nearly as nice as this.”

“You know,” Tim says, lifting his head enough to shoot a glance over his shoulder, “you promised me a massage.”

“This is a massage. I’m currently massaging you.”

“You’ve been playing with my ass for twenty minutes.”

“I feel like ‘playing with ass’ kinda means something else.”

“My shoulders are a little tight.”

“We could do that, if you want. If you really, really want.”

Tim sighs. “Yeah, okay.”

Jason pumps his fist in the air victoriously. “Yes! We gotta treat the bum well, Tim. And do all this before it gets old and saggy like mine.”

“I like your butt,” Tim says, the end riding a heavy, satisfied sigh as Jason’s fingers move from the meat of his cheeks. 

Jason leans down, presses a kiss to the back of Tim’s neck. “Thanks, honey. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of your shoulders too.”

“Even when they’re old and wrinkled?”

“Always. Pass the lube?” 


	132. Chapter 132

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s 2 AM, why are you here?”

Jason finds his way to his desk in the dark, miraculously avoiding tripping over wheelie chairs and bumping into cubicle walls. He reaches the far corner of the floor and his work space tucked into the corner there, and runs his hands along the surface until- yes, awesome- he finds his phone. Letting out a sigh of relief and exhaustion, he turns to head out of the office, back to his apartment and his  _bed_. 

But he notices something, a strip of light coming from under Tim’s office door. Tim must have left the light on when he went home at the end of the day. Jason opens the door to turn it off, but when he enters the office he sees Tim, sitting at his desk. Working. 

“Mr. Drake?”

Eyes snapping away from his computer screen, Tim jerks his head over. He grunts, something like a question. 

“It’s 2 AM,” Jason says, incredulous. “Why are you still here?” 

Tim blinks at him, slowly. “Working,” he finally says, voice rough. 

“It’s two in the morning.” Jason feels it bears repeating.

Tim waves it off. “’Ts not that late.” 

Jason’s been Tim Drake’s assistant for a few weeks now, and he’d known already that the man works hard. He knows Tim stays later than anyone else, that he lives on caffeine and Snickers bars. But this… Jason didn’t know that Tim stayed  _this_  late. That there are nights he might not leave at all.  

Tim asks, “What are you doing here?” 

“Uh, my phone.” Jason holds it up. “Left it on my desk.” 

“Ah, okay.” A beat, and then, “Well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“Oh.”

“Mr. Drake-”

“Tim, please.”

“Tim,” Jason says, the name a little unnatural on his tongue. “Are you planning on staying here all night?”

“I wasn’t  _planning_  on it, but…”

“And you’re gonna work tomorrow,” Jason guesses. 

Tim shrugs, like he doesn’t see the problem with any of this. 

“No.” This is not okay. “Mr. Dr-  _Tim_ , you should go home.”

“I have work to do.”

“You’ll always have work to do. It’ll still be here on Monday. Go home.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Pretty sure I’m the boss here.”

“Yeah, and I’m the assistant. This is me assisting you.”

“By kicking me out.”

“It’s for your own good.”

“Jason,” Tim sighs, shaking his head, but Jason interrupts. 

“I’ll pick you up and carry you out if I need to.”

Tim laughs. “You wouldn’t.”

Jason steps forward.

“Okay, maybe you would.” Tim stands, turns off his computer. “Fine, ya big bully. I’m going. You know I could fire you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Tim grumbles his way out the office, and Jason flips the light off, closing the door behind them.


	133. Chapter 133

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is that my shirt?". And "where are your pants?".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of the previous chapter's verse

“This is the second most unprofessional thing I’ve ever done,” Tim says, wiping come off his hand with a tissue. He pauses. “Wait, no, it might top the list. Would you say this is more or less unprofessional than filling someone’s desk with cream cheese?”

“Dick?”

“In my defense, he had glued my candy drawer shut.”

Jason grabs a couple tissues for himself to dab off the sweat from his face and neck. Sexy times can be quite the work out, especially when holding your boss against the wall of his office the entire time. His biceps burn. He likes it. “I think the cream cheese is worse. Someone had to clean that shit up.” 

“Have to clean up after this, too.”

“Not quite as bad though.”

“True.” 

Jason takes a moment to give Tim a soft kiss. 

It doesn’t last, because someone starts knocking on the door. 

“Just a minute,” Tim calls out, a bit shrill. He snatches up their clothes strewn all over the floor and they race to get dressed. 

“Wait.” Jason looks down at his arm which can’t fit the sleeve he’s trying to shove it through, and Tim, who is swimming in his blue button-up. “Is that my shirt?”

“Must be,” Tim mumbles, stripping it off and throwing it at Jason’s face. 

They get buttoned up and Jason pulls up his pants. Tim’s looking around frantically. “Where are my pants,” he whisper-yells. 

“Where are your pants?” Jason asks stupidly. 

The person at the door knocks again.

“Hold on, sorry!”

“Just sit behind your desk,” Jason urges, pushing Tim toward his chair. “They won’t be able to see.”

Tim looks like he hates that plan, but he doesn’t have time to argue or think of anything better, so he complies. Jason does a quick check to make sure his clothes are mostly straight, and then he opens the door. 

“Hey, Dick.”

Dick grins. “Jason.”

“Tim’s pretty busy right now.”

“I’m sure.”

“Yeah, so I can have him come see you when he gets a free minute.”

“Fine, fine,” Dick says easily. He peeks into what he can see of the room, which is the corner opposite Tim’s desk. “I just wanted to tell him the final paperwork on that merger went through.”

“That’s great, I’ll let him know.”

Dick turns away and then stops, gives Jason a huge smile. “Oh and one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“His pants are hanging from the fake tree over there.”


	134. Chapter 134

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Babe when you have time on your hands/feeling up to it. It would be fricker frackin neat to see more jaytim fluff smut"

“Do you have a to-go container?”

Jason blinks slowly at his tea. It’s cinnamon-orange, a rooibos blend that doesn’t have any caffeine and isn’t helping his still sleepy brain wake up and process that question. It’s good for his stomach, though. “What?”

“I made too much food, I need something to put it in,” Tim says, waving a spatula at the massive plate of egg sandwiches. Jason didn’t know he even had enough bread for that many sandwiches. 

“…You mean a Tupperware?”

“Okay, yeah, that.”

“Second cabinet to your right, on the bottom.”

Tim crouches down and rummages around until he finds something the right size. His t-shirt (Jason’s shirt) ends halfway down his thigh, falls down a little to show more pale skin until he stands again, triumphant with container in hand. He gently stacks the food inside, all except the few he sets aside on a plate that he brings over to the table when he’s done. He sets the food in front of Jason.

“Eat it and tell me how good it is.”

Jason sets down his tea, reaches for his breakfast. “You seem pretty confident.”

“This is the only thing I know how to cook,” Tim says, grabbing his own mug of coffee and settling down in the chair next to Jason. He picks a sandwich for himself. Waves it at Jason pointedly. “I’ve gotten many a compliment for these in the past.”

Jason takes a bite. “Tim, dear. Someone was lying to you.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

“I mean, it’s not terrible,” Jason continues, still eating, “it’s just. Not that great.” 

“Oh, you’re serious.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Tim shrugs.

Jason says, “Lemme ask a question,” and Tim jerks his head in affirmation, mouth too full to speak, so Jason asks, “Do you always make these for people when you’re half-naked the morning after?”

Tim looks off to the side, thinking, chewing, and then, “Yeah.”

“Okay, that’s why they liked it so much,” Jason tells him, eyes trailing up Tim’s legs. The shirt hem rides up almost too far (not quite far enough) when he’s sitting down. The sleeves hang nearly past his elbows. His hair is sticking up funnily. 

“Part of me is flattered, but then the other part doesn’t like being patronised, so.” Tim sips his coffee. “But thanks for being honest.”

“Hell, if you like honesty there are some choice things I could say.”

“Only if they’ll make me feel good about myself.”

“Does hearing all the ways I wanna fuck you make you feel good about yourself?”

Tim hums, considering. “Usually that would make me kind of uncomfortable, but I think it might okay right now.”

“In that case,” Jason pauses to down some tea and clear his throat. “I wanna set you on the counter top and lick my way up your thighs- you have really amazing legs, by the way- and then I wanna suck you off.”

Tim swallows. Picks at the crust of his sandwich. Says, “And then what about you?” and his voice is a little breathy, his cheeks a touch pink. 

“Do you have a good refractory period?”

“Depends. I, um,” his eyes linger on Jason’s arms, “I don’t think it’ll take very long to get goin’ again.”

“Alright, then I want you to fuck me over the table after that.”

“I think our height difference might be a problem there. Will the bed be okay?”

Jason nods. 

Tim nods too. “Right, then. Good plan. Um. Now?”

“I don’t know,” Jason says, taking another bite of food. “I’m enjoying the wonderful breakfast you slaved over.”

“Jason this breakfast is shit, now pick me up and put me on the counter.” 


	135. Chapter 135

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "neon lights or red balloons"

Tim climbs through Jason’s window at two in the morning, his sneakers slipping on the rain-slick window sill. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s just Tim. But Tim knows how to get in through the kitchen window, so that’s what he does, rather than try his luck with the door.

Jason knows Tim knows how to break in through the kitchen window and he hasn’t upgraded the lock, so it’s practically an invitation. It’s not something they talk about.

Dripping onto the hardwood floor, Tim makes his way to the living room in the dark. The first couple times he fumbled a bit, but he knows his way around now and heads straight for the standing lamp in the corner without banging his shin on the coffee table. Now the room is lit with a soft yellow glow, and it’s empty. He knows Jason is home. The tracker places him here. That’s something else they don’t talk about- along with the one Jason planted in Tim’s phone.

The bedroom door, at the end of the hall, is hanging open, red light staining the floor just outside it. The red light is a constant. Directly across from the window over Jason’s bed is a neon red sign in the shape of a chicken advertising the restaurant on the ground floor. They have pretty good food there. Tim likes to stop by and grab a bucket of fried chicken that Jason will make a fuss over, saying Tim’s betrayed him by patronising his enemy. Tim points out he could easily destroy the sign if he really wanted to, and Jason mumbles something about not being a  _total_  asshole, while he grabs a drumstick for himself. They also don’t talk about how Tim knows Jason’s favorite part is the leg and always gets extra, along with a whole side cup full of gravy.

When Tim steps into the room, into the red-tinted glow, he sees Jason, laid out on the mattress. Lit by neon and moonlight that plays with the shadows across his body as he moves.

As he moves.

As his chest rises and falls, as his back arches. As his toes curls into the sheets. As the muscles in his arms flex, one hand gripped tight to the headboard above him, the other wrapped around his cock.

Jason knows Tim knows how to come through the kitchen window. Jason can see exactly where Tim is at the check of an app. Jason left his door open. Jason can hear the drip-drop of rain falling from Tim’s clothes. Jason knows Tim is standing there.

He keeps moving, slow and steady strokes. Eyes shut.

This is another one of those things they don’t talk about.

Tim unzips his jacket, lets it fall to the floor. His shirt and jeans and shoes and socks drop one by one until he’s as bare as Jason, and Jason will complain later about his wet clothes ruining the carpet.

Jason moves like rolling waves, with wine and blood stained skin and soft sighs falling from parted lips in a plea that has Tim crawling over him in an instant.

They don’t talk about a lot of things. They don’t acknowledge when this happens; later they won’t mention it at all. But this-

“Kiss me,” Jason says.

-this, they talk about.

“Touch me, please,” Jason begs.

They tell each other exactly what they want. Even if they can never manage the same honesty outside of this room.

But it’s okay, Tim thinks. They’ll get there. Someday. Maybe. If they never do, then they still have this.

“I need you,” he whispers against Tim’s lips.

“Need you too,” Tim answers, pressing himself as close as he can.


	136. Chapter 136

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "JayTim, Jurassic Park!"

“Do you ever stop to think,” Jason asks, staring through the thick, thick glass out onto their life’s work, “about the  _magnitude_  of what we’re doing here. About the power we’ve entrusted to ourselves to create life, to play  _gods_.”

“Not really,” Tim answers, tossing a Cheeto up into the air and catching it his mouth, the  _crunch_  of it bouncing off the walls of the lab. 


	137. Chapter 137

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim, regency au!!"

Tim slips into the kitchen, feet bare on the cold stone floor, a long, ornately woven cloak wrapped tightly around him. The fire is burning low in the hearth, the aroma of the day’s meals still lingering in the late night air, and two wooden cups are set out on the prep table alongside a large plate of fruits and cheese and freshly baked bread. He smiles, sits down and waits; it’s not long before Jason is settling in next to him, his rough breeches rubbing against Tim’s silky nightshirt as their legs touch underneath the table, Jason’s rough hands finding Tim’s smooth ones across the tabletop.


	138. Chapter 138

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim dragon au"

“So you found a dragon egg, and decided to  _keep it_ ,” Jason says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Tim promises, “She’s totally sweet, there’s nothing to worry about,” leaning down to pet the shiny, blue head of the baby dragon laying in a nest of old clothes- some of which are Jason’s, he notes bitterly. 

There’s a flash of flame and Tim yelps, snapping his hand back but still giving Jason an earnest expression when he repeats, “Such a sweetie, you’ll love her!”


	139. Chapter 139

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jaytim American vandal au"

“Your alibi is tenuous at best,” comes Jason’s voice from off camera.

In the frame Tim slumps in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table top as he drawls, “Well it’s the only one I got, and it’s the truth; Frank O’Riley says he saw me stealing all those pizzas, but I know he didn’t see shit because I always spend sixth period taking a nap in the back of the library.”

“Unfortunately no one can corroborate this story.” 

Tim sits up, says, “Oh fuck off with that narrator voice, Todd, you pretentious douche. You can corroborate seeing as you were with me!”

Jason sighs, “They won’t believe me, okay, we’ve been over this. Now let’s get back to proving your innocence.”

“Thought you were supposed to remain unbiased.” 

“Yeah, well, I won’t stand for my boyfriend being suspended, so let’s do this.”


	140. Chapter 140

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "the office au"

“How do I feel about Tim? I hate that kid, fucking coming in here acting like he’s the best thing since sliced bread when I’ve been the top salesman for three years running, alright, and he’s not gonna- what?” 

_footage of Jason and Tim in the back corner of the warehouse, kissing_

“Oh… well I still hate him,” Jason says, and winks at the camera when he adds, “but he’s got a great set of lips.” 


	141. Chapter 141

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Witch Jason and Werewolf Tim"

“This is… are you sure people will be into this?” Jason asks, tugging at his witch costume. It’s not even a sexy one, just a tattered black shirt with silver embroidery and tall hat with a pointed tip. 

“There’re people that are into anything and everything,” the director assures him, “and besides no one really cares about the story anyway.”

Jason’s co-star, Tim, runs his tongue over his cheep fake fangs and shrugs, saying, “Whatever, let’s hop to it!”


	142. Chapter 142

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "jaytim and a catlad au"

“You know I can’t keep this,” Tim says, leaning back in his office chair and letting the rope of pearls slide between his fingers, rich and creamy in the dim light. “Besides, I don’t think they’re quite my style.”

“I dunno about that, I think you’d look great wrapped up in them,” Jason answers from where he’s perched on the ledge of the balcony, voice drifting through the open glass door that Tim’s sure he locked, and Jason adds, before jumping out into the night sky, “but they’re for your assistant, she deserves little something extra for having to manage you.”


	143. Chapter 143

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Timmy wears the panties Robin costume and everybody's freaked out by how cute/sexy he looks in it!"

Stephanie whistles and Dick claps as Tim saunters into the room, striking a pose. 

“I told you I’d look good in it,” he says, stretching out one leg and then the other. 

“Damn good,” Steph agrees. She reaches out and gives his thigh a pat. “Look at those legs, hun!”

Cass grins, not even looking at Tim. Instead she’s looking at…

“Jason,” Dick calls, snapping his fingers into front of Jason’s glazed-over expression. “Tim I think you broke him.”

“Tt.” Damian scoffs, arms crossed. Eyes anywhere but at Tim. “You look ridiculous, Drake. Go change so that I am not forced to witness this any longer.”

Turning in a slow circle, presenting the full effect of the outfit, Tim says, “You’re just jealous  Dick let me wear his old suit.”

“He would allow me,” Damian argues, “if I wished to wear it. I simply refuse to.” 

“Please, your ass wouldn’t fill this out half as well.” Tim lifts the short yellow cape to show how his ass does indeed fill out the tiny shorts. 

Jason finally makes a sound, a small, garbled sort of noise. 

“Seriously, I think you broke Jason,” Dick says with real concern. And amusement. 


	144. Chapter 144

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's run away together"

Jason shuffles into his kitchen to make the first pot of coffee of the day and nearly trips over Tim, who’s laying on the tile floor. He ignores the whole situation until he’s sat at his table, mug in hand and steam rising gently around his face. 

“What’re you doing in my house, replacement?”

“Aw,” Tim says, sounding almost fond, “haven’t heard that one in a while.”

What Jason really wants to know is how the little fucker got in, because he knows Tim is smart but Jason is smart too. How long has Tim known where he lives? How did he get past the security measures Jason designed? 

More importantly, “Does anyone else know where to find me?”

Tim shrugs, the skin of his forearm squeaking lightly against the floor. “They might. I haven’t been keeping track. Hey.” He looks over at Jason for the first time, his dark hair fanning out around him. “You ever just…”

He trails off, eyes going distant. 

Jason sips his coffee. 

Finally Tim says, “Let’s run away together.”  

“Run away together,” Jason echoes, voice flat. 

“Yeah!” Tim sits up, growing more excited by the second. “We could just leave, Jason. You and me. We could… we  _could_.”

“Could what,” Jason asks, frowning. 

“Could whatever! It doesn’t matter, we could do it. Whatever we want.” Tim’s eyes are wide and eager, and pleading. Willing Jason to understand. 

“Are you high or something? What are you on?” Amphetamines, is Jason’s guess. 

“No, I’m-” Tim cuts off. Grabs his hair and then visibly forces himself to let go. “I’m tired.”

“Tired.”

“Yeah. I’m tired. Aren’t you tired, Jason?”

Jason rubs the smooth ceramic of his mug. Tastes the bitterness on the back of his tongue. Feels the aching in his knees and neck and heart. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, I’m tired too.”


	145. Chapter 145

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We can't go in there..."

“Wait!” Tim grabs Jason’s arm, forcing him to an abrupt stop just outside the door of the manor library. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he leans in close to Jason’s ear. His voice is small in the long, wide corridor. “What if they’re, like, canoodling?”

 _Canoodling_ , Jason mouths, both horrified and unmistakably fond. “That’s kind of the point, Timmy. To catch them at it.”

“We can’t go in there…” Tim says, and Jason’s about to throw a fit because this was the plan, okay, this was going to be their entertainment for the afternoon, and now Tim’s backing out? But then Tim pulls out his phone, turns on the camera. “Can’t go in there  _unprepared_. Okay lets do it.”

He grins, and Jason’s in love. Sure, Jason’s only fourteen, but he’s pretty sure he knows what that feeling in his tummy means. Or it could be something he ate.

They share a determined nod, and then bust through the door. 

“Aha!” shouts Jason. 

Dick and Barbara look up from their textbooks. There’s, like, a whole two feet of space between them. 

Tim lowers his phone. “Oh. They’re actually… studying.”

“What did you think we’d be doing?” Barbara asks. 

Jason glances at Tim mouthing the word  _canoodling_ , and Tim laughs. 

Dick says, “You two get out of here, we’re working,” in that overly-important big brother voice.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Come off it, we all know she’s doing all the work.”

“That’s not true!” Dick’s voice cracks, and Tim and Jason don’t hide their amusement very well. He clears his throat. “You kids go play somewhere else.”

Jason sends Babs a long-suffering look. “Your boyfriend’s a real dork, you know that?

Dick protests, “Hey, so is yours!”

“So you’re my boyfriend now,” Barbara asks, eyebrows raised, at the same time that Tim’s eyes go wide and he says, “Wait, me?”

Babs grins. “And I was thinking I was just a tutor.”

Tim looks at Jason. “Are we boyfriends?”

Dick looks like he’s about to throw up but Jason can’t really enjoy it right now because he feels about the same. Maybe he really did eat something bad. 

“I need to…” Jason doesn’t finish saying  _not be here right now_ , just turns and runs.

As he goes he hears Tim exclaim, “I got all that on video!” 


	146. Chapter 146

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dance with me"

The mini quiche is knocked out of Jason’s hand and then suddenly he’s got his arms full of Tim. 

“Dance with me,” Tim hisses, nudging Jason into movement. 

Jason sends a forlorn look to the pastry on the ballroom floor. “I was eating that.”

“And I was being hunted by Mrs. Hanover.”

“Oh,” Jason hums in understanding, settling his hands more firmly on Tim’s waist. He starts to sway in time to the music. “Yeah that old broad is a cheek pincher. Face and ass.”

Tim shudders.

“So what’s the plan here,” Jason asks. “She’ll be on you the second I let go. Look at her, she’s still got her good eye on you.”

Tim risks a glance behind him and Mrs. Hanover waves, a great many strings of pearls hanging from her wrist. “Well. Then I just won’t let you let me go.”

“What’ll you do to ensure my cooperation?” 

“What do you want?” Tim asks. His hair is slicked back and his eyes look so big. Jason’s doesn’t often get to admire them so closely. 

Jason pulls him in an inch. Lets himself enjoy the moment. “I’ll think of something.”


	147. Chapter 147

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Catch me if you can!"

Tim can feel the heat of Jason’s body even underneath the layers of Kevlar and leather, even in the biting cold of a Gotham night in November. He huddles in closer, runs his hands over Jason’s thick biceps and shoulders. Traces his jaw with a padded thumb and wishes he could take off the gloves and feel it properly.

“I think I’m finally off the clock,” he decides. It’s an hour earlier than he usually cuts patrol, but he thinks he can be a little selfish, just this once. “You wanna go home?”

Jason smiles, lit by the nightlife around them. Beautiful. “Hm, I don’t know. I think I wanna play some more.”

“Oh, is that what we’ve been doing? Playing? Someone forgot to tell those bank robbers, they were using real bullets.”

“Well that’s why it’s fun, babe.” Jason steps away, and Tim should feel cold, but he doesn’t. Not when Jason is looking at him like that, not when he’s excited and enjoying himself. “Come on, one more round. This time just the two of us.”

“The two of us?”

“Yeah, I hear that big, bad Red Hood is up to no good,” Jason says, slowly inching his way toward the ledge of the rooftop.

Tim grins, subtly readying his grapple gun. “Oh is he?”

“He’s quite the villain,” Jason affirms. “Just dastardly.”

“Well then I guess I have no choice but to hunt him down.”

Jason’s smile before he jumps into the night air is one Tim will be saving in the back of his mind. It’s one he’ll remember when Jason’s been away too long, or when Tim is feeling the world caving in around him. 

He’ll remember too the laugh that floats back to him, and the fading voice taunting, “Catch me if you can!”

Tim pauses, files these things away for safe keeping, for a rainy day. And then he jumps. 


	148. Chapter 148

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For the 3 sentence fic thing, maybe JayTim in space? Please and thank you! :D"

“We weren’t planning on dropping by the Sol system, but I guess it’s not too far out of our way,” Captain Tim says (and his name isn’t really Tim, instead something Jason’s human vocal cords couldn’t come close to replicating, so Jason had just gone with ‘Tim’, with the alien’s begrudging acceptance) and checks his pad with a frown before adding a mumbled, “backwater system doesn’t have a fueling station…”

Tim sighs, “put away those kilpi eyes, I’ll get you back to your planet… unless we run out of food on the way, then I make no promises as to what happens to you,” he says with a wink as he walks away.

“Well,” Jason says to himself looking around the cargo hold of Tim’s vessel, listening to the eerie music playing in a foreign language from somewhere deep in the ship, “this oughta be a fun couple weeks.”


	149. Chapter 149

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you’re still taking those prompts, I’d love to read something with sick Tim and 145: “Go back to bed.”"

Tim watches through the glass as baby (no first name picked yet) Henson yawns. In the next crib little Silas Shepard wiggles in his blanket cocoon, the soft fabric as brightly yellow as his small patch of hair. 

From down the hall comes the wail of a newborn and the sound itself should be irritating but Tim just closes his eyes and listens, content. He feels life– in the air, curling around his wrists. It’s gentle and smells like antiseptic and warm skin and tears and formula. He can feel it and maybe just by standing here, somehow… 

When he opens his eyes Jason is standing next to him, filling his peripheral with the cheerful hot pink of his scrubs. 

“You’re getting faster,” Tim says, checking the clock on the wall. Only twenty-two minutes. 

“You’re getting slower.” 

Tim can’t really argue with that. 

Jason’s looking at the rows of tiny, tiny babies. (Except for Charlotte on the far right– Tim feels more than a little sympathy for the woman who delivered her.) “At least you picked a good hiding spot today.”

“I brought my stand too,” Tim points out, giving the thing a shake. His IV bag swings gently. 

“Oh what a model patient,” Jason deadpans. He glances over to Tim and grins. “If you think that’ll make Nancy any less furious, I’ve got some news for you.” 

“Maybe we could give poor Nancy a break and not tell her. She’s got so many responsibilities, no need to add more pressure.”

“For Nancy’s sake, huh.” Jason makes a considering noise. “Maybe. If you go back to bed without fighting me.”

“On one condition.”

“I thought I was the one with the upper hand here.”

Tim ignores him. “I’ll go quietly if we stop by the Starbucks on the first floor and get some coffee.”

“Why Tim, are you asking me out?” Jason raises a hand to his chest dramatically. 

And Tim, well. Doesn’t have much to lose at this point. “Yes. I am.” 

Jason blinks. Lets him arm fall. He looks back toward the newborns and Tim traces the lines of his profile. His tired eyes and five o’clock shadow and hair that needs combing. Beautiful. 

Jason clears his throat. Says, voice soft, “We can stop and get coffee. And then when… when you’re out of here we can go for dinner, how about that?” 

“Sure,” Tim says, even though he doesn’t think he’s ever gonna be able to make it out of here for dinner. 

But it’s a nice thought.


	150. Chapter 150

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hold me and never let me go.”

“Okay.”

A whine. 

“It’s time.”

A growl.

“I have to go,” Tim says, gently pushing Jason’s arm off his chest. 

Jason tightens his hold, swings a leg over and buries his face into Tim’s neck and hard as he can. “No.”

“I have work, honey.”

This time Jason slides his whole body on top of Tim’s, and the protesting noise he makes has Tim laughing into his hair. 

Tim says, “Jason, I can’t be late again!” but it comes out too fond and he’s scratching Jason’s back as he says it, so there’s not much force behind it. Tim doesn’t want to leave either. 

“I wish I could crawl inside you.” Tim laughs again. Jason presses even closer. “I wish we could be like crystal gems and fuse into one person.”

“I know.” 

“I want you to hold me and never let me go.”

“I will,” Tim says, and Jason lifts his head to look down at him hopefully. “As soon as I get back from work,” he adds, twisting around and managing to slip out from underneath Jason’s bulk. 

He walks into his closet to change into work clothes, mournful moans following him the entire time he gets dressed. Every time he walks past the bed he has to give it a wide berth to dodge Jason’s grabby hands. When he gives Jason a kiss goodbye he nearly doesn’t make it out, and has to re-adjust his tie afterward. 

And work is tedious, frustrating hell but he gets through it by thinking about what kind of person their fusion would be.

A strong one, he thinks. 


End file.
